Not Ready
by Luke1
Summary: AU-When Leia found she was pregnant 19 yrs ago, she sent Han away. Now he must heip her rescue their daughter and Luke from a man from their past.Chapter 19 up!
1. Prologue

Author's note: I'm not too passionate about this story-let's just say it's not my life work or my chosen calling-but I want to put myself out there and write something entertaining. Enjoy!  
  
Two Years after Endor, Coruscant  
  
Leia Organa wiped the tears from her eyes as she surveyed the city below her. The covered terrace jutted out over it, and the transports whizzing by shook it just noticeably. It was perfectly safe, but the natural instinct to stay out of danger was still telling her to go back inside. But Leia didn't. She needed to stay here. The danger made her feel alive.  
  
She drew a shuddering breath. She had just been in her room, sobbing on Luke's shoulder as he did his naïve best to comfort her. But how could he possibly understand? He was a man, or a boy more accurately; he could never understand the fear she was feeling. At last, she had asked him to call Han and tell him to meet her on the terrace in the south hall, and she left.  
  
How could this be happening? She wasn't ready for this! She was twenty-three, too young. The New Republic was too young. Her relationship with Han was too young.  
  
And yet, somehow, the thought didn't seem so bad. She wasn't scared. She knew that she would be taken care of.  
  
She heard Han's footfalls, felt his strong hands on her shoulders, and the gentile touch of his lips on her neck.   
  
"Don't." She pulled away. She didn't want him to touch her, not now. That's how she had gotten into this mess in the first place. "Just don't. We need to talk."  
  
Han frowned. He touched her cheek, right below her eye. "You crying? What's wrong?"  
  
Leia sighed. "I-I don't know how to explain this to you. How to tell you..."  
  
Han didn't say anything. He had no idea what was going on. How could he be so dense? Leia wondered. So uncaring? So...self-centered?   
  
"I...I missed my period."  
  
Leia let Han process that before she continued.  
  
"I was just with Luke, and we were meditating...we were in each other's minds and...he pulled back all of a sudden. He says he can feel another presence in my body. I...I'm pregnant."  
  
Han's shock was visible. "What? You're...but how can you be sure? The kid doesn't know everything."  
  
"I know, but he said he thought that's what it was, and it feels right. I know it's true."  
  
Han looked down and away, leaned on the terrace railing for support. He thought about it, rolled it over and over in his mind, considering it. "Are you okay?" He finally asked.  
  
Leia nodded.  
  
Han thought some more, and then reached for Leia's hand. "Do you want it?"  
  
Leia's heart ached. She didn't know what to say.  
  
"Yes, I think so," she finally managed.  
  
Han squeezed her hand, a small smile on his face. "Well, then..."  
  
"Han," Leia cut him off, unable to hear him rejoice the coming of the child that she would not let him claim, "Han, I don't know how to say this..."  
  
The smile left his face. Now he looked like a frightened child. He knew what was coming. "Leia...I love you. I've told you that over and over again and I don't know how I'm gonna get you to believe me!"   
  
"No, Han. I believe you. That's why this is so hard."  
  
Han, still determined to prove his love, leaned forward, trying to kiss Leia. She pulled away from his lips, but he insisted on keeping his face near hers. "What do you want me to say?" He was all softness with her at times like this. Leia loved how quiet his voice could be, how gentile his touches, and how yielding his manor. She loved him. But she couldn't say it out loud.  
  
It was how he was at other times, how forceful, how childish, how reckless and selfish.   
  
"You're not ready to be a father, Han. I'm sorry."  
  
Han sighed quietly. "What do we do then?"  
  
Leia hesitated. "We don't do anything. I go about my work, you go about yours. I have the baby when its time."  
  
"But-"  
  
"You're not ready."  
  
It hurt Leia physically to look into Han's dark hazel eyes and see all of that pain. But she would not stand down.  
  
"You want me out of the picture?" He drew away a little, finally understanding.  
  
Leia nodded, no longer meeting his eyes.  
s  
Han still held her hand in his. He looked down at their intertwined fingers, saying nothing. He had expected Leia to yell at him and him to yell back if it ever came to this, if they ever broke up. But he didn't have the strength. He hurt too much. Besides, she was pregnant.   
  
"If that's what you want." He was angry, hurt, confused...but he wanted Leia to have what she wanted. He held her eyes for a moment, then turned away, letting go her hand. He took two steps back to the hall, and then abruptly turned, pulling Leia into him, kissing her with enough love to last years.   
  
When he pulled back, Leia wanted to kiss him again, but she knew she couldn't. He turned to go, and Leia watched him. She thought that she'd see him around, that he'd play with the baby when he was born, that he'd stay friends with Luke, and that he'd continue as a military leader of the New Republic.  
  
She didn't see him again for nineteen years. 


	2. Together and Alone

Twenty-one years after the Battle of Endor, Coruscant  
  
Luke Skywalker woke up late at night to the feeling of his family close by. He sighed happily. Leia and Hanna were the only family he had, and when they were gone he was so lonely. He heard them open the door to their small apartment, speaking softly. Luke pulled himself out of bed and hurriedly put on his pants. He was excited. They were just a few feet away. Only the darkness of his room and his bedroom door lie between them.  
  
He didn't bother with his shirt. He burst through the door. "Hey," he called to Leia, and then she was in his arms. It was all too often that affairs of state took both her and Hanna away. Leia kissed Luke quickly. "What are you doing up this late?" she asked, furrowing her brow. But she was smiling.  
  
"He was asleep, Mom," Hanna chimed in, smiling crookedly at her uncle, blue eyes twinkling with happiness. "We were trying not to wake you up," she explained.  
  
Luke took her in his arms as well. "I'm so glad you're back," he said into her cropped chestnut hair.  
  
"Why don't you come with us next time?" Leia asked jokingly, pinching Luke in the ribs.   
  
He flinched. He hated it when she tickled him. "Oh, no. You're not pulling me into the evils of politics. You've already corrupted Hanna."  
  
"Come on, Luke," Leia persisted. "We might be taken more seriously if we had a legendary Jedi Knight with us."  
  
"You're not taken seriously?" Luke mock-frowned. "Besides, Hanna's a Jedi, too."  
  
Hanna blushed. "Not yet."  
  
Leia put an arm around each of them. "Close enough. You've only been training for eighteen years."  
  
"Yeah, Hanna," said Luke, "I only got a few weeks here and there over the course of three years."  
  
Hanna yawned. "Fine. Whatever you say. I'm going to bed. Goodnight, Mom. 'Night, Luke."  
  
She gave a small kiss to each of them, then swaggered tiredly off to her bedroom. Luke watched her go fondly. It had been years since he had consciously noted the similarities between his niece and her "three parents." Though Hanna had never met her father, she smiled like him, occasionally talked like him, and walked like him when she wasn't consciously trying to walk in a more dignified manor--usually when she was tired or distracted. She had her mother's curvy, slight frame, her hair, and her temper and intelligence. She had her uncle's remarkable affinity to the Force, his tendency to confusion and embarrassment, and his pale blue eyes. But she had an ease, honesty, and solidity all her own. As Wedge had once put it, she really had it all figured out, especially for one so young.  
  
"She walks like him," Leia spoke into her brother's thoughts as soon as Hanna's door was closed. Leia hadn't used Han's name since she gave birth.  
  
"She has since she learned to walk." Luke put his arm around her shoulders. "Something on your mind?"  
  
Leia shrugged sadly, all the happiness of reunion fading. "I've just...been thinking about him again."  
  
Luke pursed his lips. "You want to talk about it?"  
  
She shrugged again. "I'm not sure what there is to talk about." She paused. "Well...have a glass of wine with me. Talk to me."  
  
Luke frowned. "You drink too much."  
  
She shook her head stubbornly, sitting on their big velvet couch. "I do not."  
  
Luke went to the kitchen, took out a bottle of red wine, and poured a glass for himself, a glass for Leia. He probably wouldn't finish his--he tried to stay away from substances--but he wouldn't let Leia drink alone.  
  
Handing Leia her glass, he sat close beside her. "Tell me what's going on. What made you start thinking about him again?"  
  
She took a sip of the wine, then gestured to Hanna's room. "His daughter. When we were on Malistare she insisted on carrying a blaster instead of her lightsaber because she said being marked as Jedi made her a target."  
  
"It's true."  
  
"I know it's true. Let me finish. So she carried a blaster pistol, strapped to her thigh...and she was wearing black pants and high boots...and she was letting herself walk like him. Then there was trouble in the streets, and she drew her blaster. You should see her with a blaster, Luke. Just like Han. So much like him, it scares me."  
  
"I know," Luke said simply. "She doesn't do it in front of you, but sometimes when it's just the boys, and she's joking with us...I can hear Han saying some of the things she says." He laughed, remembering the old days. "She has his dirty mind."  
  
Leia would have normally scowled at the mention of her only child having a dirty mind, but she was too lost in her on memories. Luke looked into her eyes, asking permission silently. Leia gave it to him. He took both the glasses, put them on the low table, and took Leia's hands. He entered her mind gently, careful of her privacy. Meanwhile, in the physical world, Leia cuddled up to him, letting him look for what he wanted. He needed to understand what she was feeling. They were partners--not in love, but in life. They had chosen to live together and raise Hanna together. Leia had never looked for another man after Han left, and Luke's attempts to find a woman had been unsuccessful. So now, in their early forties, they had only one another. They tried to understand each other, to be one the way Jedi twins were meant to. They had missed that much earlier in life. They needed it now.  
  
Not many people outside of their family knew that Luke and Leia were siblings. They had never announced it publicly, but they would never dream of keeping it a secret, either. Most people who didn't know better assumed that Hanna was Luke's daughter, particularly given her blue eyes. To those people, Luke would say, "Then explain her smile."  
  
As Luke searched Leia's troubled mind, he discovered something he hadn't found there before. Not ever. Was it new? Or had she hidden it from him all of these years?  
  
"You miss him," he stated, coming back to his own mind, "You're lonely." He was surprised. He hadn't expected this. Maybe regret, but not loneliness.  
  
She nodded.  
  
"I never knew. I thought you were happy. I thought you were happy," he braced himself: this was important to him, "with me."  
  
Leia sighed. "I am. You're such a good father to Hanna, and I love sharing my life with you. You're the best friend I've ever had. The best I could ever ask for. But you can't give me everything I need, Luke. We may be Jedi twins--bound mind and spirit--but you aren't my other half. I'm not whole."  
  
Luke nodded. He felt the same way a lot of nights, when the dark of his room seemed endless, the wind outside blew cold, and his bed felt too big to sleep in alone.  
  
"So?" Luke asked at last.  
  
Leia looked confused. "So what?"  
  
"So what are you going to do about it?"  
  
Leia frowned. "Nothing. What can I do? He sealed his fate nineteen years ago when he left me."  
  
"You sent him away."  
  
"I know, but I didn't think he would disappear entirely. I thought he'd--"  
  
"I know. You've told me. But it's Han. What did you expect? When Han does something, he never goes half-way."  
  
"You can say that again," Leia said under her breath, staring in the direction of Hanna's room.  
  
Luke tried to suppress a smile. Han would have loved that remark.  
  
Leia had picked up her wine again during the conversation, and she took a large sip of it.  
  
Luke put an arm around her, kissed her forehead. "Get some sleep, okay? And go easy on the wine."  
  
"I don't need you to baby-sit me."  
  
"Yes you do." He kissed her lips this time, quickly as he could. "Goodnight."  
  
She smiled faintly. "Goodnight."  
  
Luke went back to his room. He hoped he'd be able to sleep. When something was troubling Leia, it always troubled him as well. 


	3. It Had Been So Long

Mos Eisely, Tatooine  
  
It often amazed Luke how long it took for new things to reach the outer rim. In a corner of the dirty cantina, a bith band wailed on their instruments. They were still playing jizz wailer music--something very outdated in the core systems and more civilized systems like Courscant and Cardia. Luke listlessly listened to them play, remembering. It had been right there--right across the room, in that little booth over there--that he had first met Han Solo. Similar music had been playing. The room had been dark, like this. After coming inside, out of the harsh light from the twin stars, you could hardly see a thing. Actually, Luke doubted that the tables, bandstand, and bar had been changed any in the twenty-four years since that day. All of it looked out-dated, as if Luke had stepped back in time, back to being a teenage farmboy on this dry, bright planet. Leaning backward to stretch his back, he felt his muscles moving, reminding him of his age. He wasn't old yet, but he was a lot stronger, if less energetic, than he had been as an eighteen-year-old boy with a bad case of wanderlust.  
  
Across from him, Hanna drummed her fingers on the table. "I'm bored, Luke," she grumbled.  
  
"I know. But be patient. Windy should be here any minute."  
  
She sighed and put her head down in her folded arms. Luke shook his head. When would that girl learn? Eighteen, and still couldn't sit still for ten minutes at a time.  
  
They both felt it at once. Anger, danger, radiated from a large human man at the bar. He was younger than Luke, gruff and--by his Force sense--dumb as a bantha. He was yelling at a small female bothen who apparently had cheated him in some business deal. He was ready to fight, but both Hanna and Luke knew that the little bothen would never be able to hold her own against him...  
  
Luke looked to his niece. "You ready to be a guardian of peace and justice?" he asked.  
  
Hanna considered. "By myself?"  
  
Luke nodded. "You're ready. If you can almost beat me in a lightsaber duel, then you can handle this."  
  
Hanna smiled mischievously. "No problem." She stood, stolid and focused. She walked in a straight line to the couple, and Luke watched from his distance, hand on his lightasber, just in case anything should go wrong.   
  
Hanna looked too young. She was dressed in a loose, white, hooded tunic that hit at mid-thigh. She'd left her blaster pistol in her X-wing, and only her lightsaber hung from her black belt. Her pants were tight and sky-blue. Her boots matched her belt. The pale colors only accentuated her eyes and made her look innocent and venerable, the flowing tunic made her look pretty and young: sixteen, if that. And her height, or lack thereof, didn't help.  
  
Swagger, Hanna, Luke thought at her. Swagger so you don't look so naive.  
  
She didn't listen. Next time, Luke would make her carry her blaster, and conceal her lightsaber. And no more blue. Then she might look nineteen or so.  
  
Luke watched intently. He couldn't hear what was going on, but he could see and feel. It seemed as if Hanna was making progress in settling the dispute--at least she had the human's attention--but then the man's Force-sense wavered. Before Luke could get there in time to help her, Hanna had already blocked a slap from him. But his next one hit her--hard. She fell to the ground. She wasn't hurt; she'd rolled to dampen the force of the blow.   
  
Luke hoped he could talk some sense into the human before Hanna's hot head got the better of her. If he knew Hanna, she would be up in a split second, lightsaber at the ready. And then everyone in the whole blasted place would know who they were, and they'd have to leave. Fast.  
  
He didn't have to worry. A tall gray-haired man, standing beside Hanna's attacker, was good enough to knock the man unconscious for hitting a young woman. He did it non-chalantly, as if his life work had been just to tap people on the shoulder and punch them in the face when they turned. Now the man looked down on his victim, making sure the coast was clear.  
  
The strange thing was, Luke didn't figure it out until the man looked at him.  
  
Hanna had gotten to her feet and was dusting herself off. Luke exchanged a glance with her, and he knew she was all right. Meanwhile, he had come to the man's side, looked upon the unconscious ruffian for a moment. "Thanks," he said to the man.  
  
They both looked into each other's eyes at the same instant. Both were equally taken aback. Blue. Hazel. Luke's breath caught in his throat. The other man was just as stunned as he was. They stared into each other's eyes for a long moment. Hanna came and stood beside her uncle.  
  
"I'm sorry I couldn't handle it, Luke," she said, unaware of what was taking place.  
  
Luke blinked, finally able to unlock eyes with the other man. "Huh? Oh. Uh...don't worry about it, Hanna. You tried. It doesn't always work for me, either."  
  
She nodded, still slightly disappointed with herself.   
  
But at the mention of the girl's name, the other man turned towards her. She looked up to meet his eyes. And there they stood, for a long moment, seeing each other for the first time. They both new the other, instinctively. But the man still needed to ask the question.  
  
He turned to Luke when he was finally capable. "Is that--?"  
  
Luke nodded slowly, unable to speak. When Hanna turned to him with her unspoken question, Luke smiled at the ridiculousness of it all and shrugged helplessly.  
  
The old man and the young woman looked each other over once more, then Hanna stammered, "I...I think I'll wait outside for Windy."  
  
And before Luke could respond, she was out the door.  
  
The man sat down on a bar-stool with a heavy sigh. After a moment, he regarded Luke again, trying to smile his roguish smile and joke like he used to. "She's a little spitfire."  
  
Luke nodded, sitting beside him. He could tell they would have a long talk about this, and other things as well. It had been so long. "She is your daughter, Han." 


	4. After All These Years

Han and Luke watched Hanna's attacker being dragged away by a friend. All present agreed that the human girl had been hit unprovoked, including his friend, so Han was left alone.   
  
The music began to play again, and the bustle of the cantina returned. Having nothing else to worry about, the two reluctantly turned and looked at each other, silent for a long time. Neither knew what to say. Finally, Han scratched his neck nervously and asked, "Uh...What are you doing back here?"  
  
Luke took a deep breath to calm his jumpy nerves. "Hanna and I come here to rock-climb. We've been doing it for years. It's...it's kind of part of her Jedi training."  
  
Han nodded. After a moment he smiled ironically, trying to hide how shaken he was. "My daughter's a Jedi."  
  
"Yes. She is." He paused, looking his old friend over, taking in everything about him. His hair had turned gray; he'd gained a little weight; he was quieter than Luke remembered. But his facial expressions, his heavy Corillian accent, his smell...they were all the same. His dark eyes still managed to look soft and cocky at once. He still couldn't manage to wear a clean shirt or to button it up all the way. His blaster was still carried at his thigh, the holster hanging from a low-slung belt.  
  
"We were going to leave today for home, but Hanna's X-wing keeps malfunctioning. I can't find anything wrong with it-"  
  
"Probably got a bug."  
  
"That's what I thought. We're meeting someone here-Windy, a friend of mine-and he's bringing equipment to run a diagnostic on the computer."  
  
Han nodded. It really didn't matter to him, not at this point. He looked Luke over, taking in everything about him. His basically unchanged hair: still the same dark blond without a trace of gray. His Jedi robes, all black save for his white under-tunic, of which only the collar was visible. The faint lines in his skin around his eyes from smiling and worrying. His unchanged quiet, almost unearthly demeanor, which broke occasionally to let out the old Luke, the easy-going one who had gotten along so well with Han, put him at ease, and made him smile.  
  
Luke saw the way Han looked at him, and he wondered if he could see anything of his twin sister in him. "How are you, Han?" he asked softly, genuinely wanting to know.  
  
Han shrugged. "Can't complain I guess. As long as the price of spice is high and the Falcon still flies..."  
  
Luke almost choked. He hadn't heard something so funny in a long time. He laughed out loud. "The Falcon? You're still flying the Millennium Falcon?"  
  
Han smiled. Here was the old Luke, the one he could joke with, the one who had, when he was just a boy, declared his beloved ship a "piece of junk."  
  
"She's still got it where it counts, kid."  
  
Luke laughed again. "I'm forty-two."  
  
Han blinked. "What?"  
  
"I'm forty-two, Han. I don't think that's the most appropriate nick-name for me anymore."  
  
"So what? It's my name for you. Always has been."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Han didn't answer. He played with the stirrer in his drink, and Luke could feel his anticipation. He was bracing himself to ask one of the many huge questions he needed answered. "Luke...what's she like?"  
  
"Hanna?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
"She's..." That was a loaded question. "She's smart, and spirited, and...lots of fun. Like you said: she's a little spitfire. You'd like her."  
  
He half-smiled. "Would I?"  
  
"A lot. She's...a lot like you."  
  
Han sighed, his jaw set in...what? Anger? Fear? "It'd be better if she was like her." He quickly downed the rest of his drink.  
  
"Like who? Leia?"  
  
He didn't answer, but Luke knew what he had meant.  
  
Han had never been good at expressing his emotions. Luke knew he had a lot of questions, and that he would get the answers one way or another. But how to ask without exposing his soul? "Where's Leia?"   
  
"Coruscant."  
  
He kept quiet again.  
  
Luke regarded him, as the other refused to meet his eyes. "Han, I know you're dieing to know about Hanna."  
  
Han simply caught Luke's eyes for a moment. He knew that meant yes.  
  
"Were should I start?"   
  
"At the beginning."  
  
So Luke told Han everything, everything that he thought he had a right to know. He told him about how upset Leia was when he'd disappeared without a trace. No one knew where to find him. When Leia had to announce her pregnancy publicly, she'd been so scared, so ashamed. And when she'd started to show, she tried to wear things to hide it. But all of that changed when Leia felt her daughter kick for the first time. Suddenly, she was so in love with the baby, so happy with her life. Except one thing-she wondered if she'd been hasty in sending Han away. She started to wonder if she should have given him a chance. When she'd gone into labor, Luke had helped her through her contractions with Jedi breathing techniques, and Hanna was born fairly easily. From day one, Luke and Leia and their friends had been amazed by Hanna's gifts, her personality, her beauty, and her resemblance to her father. Hanna had learned to read and write very young, as well as other skills necessary for the daughter of Leia Organa to know: piloting, self-defense, government and political theory, and, thanks to her uncle, the Jedi arts.   
  
"She's remarkable, Han," Luke finished. "You'd be proud of her."  
  
Han had listened intently, his eyes far away. "Yeah, I guess," he was finally able to mumble. "But would she of been so 'remarkable' if...naw, never mind."   
  
Luke let him withdraw his question and keep his silence.  
  
"How old is she?" Han could bring himself to ask that. "I've been trying to keep track, but...I don't know her birthday. Nineteen?"  
  
"Almost. Next month."  
  
"She's short for nineteen."  
  
"She's taller than her mother."  
  
Han looked at Luke quickly with eyes like daggers. Then he let his eyes soften. "I don't really remember..."  
  
Luke hesitantly put a hand on Han's shoulder. They'd been so close once, like brothers. Luke had never found another friend he loved like he had once loved Han. "Han, I know she hurt you-"  
  
"Damn strait she hurt me!" Han raised his voice, but Luke didn't draw back. "I never recovered from that! Do you have any idea--?"  
  
"Han, I've been hurt before, too."  
  
"Not like this you haven't. You ain't never been hurt like that woman hurt me. Do you know what it's like to have a kid somewhere out there that you've never even seen?"   
  
"No."  
  
Han quieted again. His anger, his hurt, was old. Luke knew that he would never stop hurting, but he had gotten used to the pain. "You have kids, Luke?"  
  
"No."  
  
"You married?"  
  
"No. I just...haven't found the right girl, I guess."  
  
"Is...she...does Leia..."  
  
"No." Luke wondered if he should be telling Han this. "After you...she never looked at another man."  
  
Luke caught the glimmer of hope in Han's eyes. His chest tightened. Did he still love Leia? After all these years?  
  
They say that true love lasts forever, Luke thought. And they way Han and Leia used to act together in the old days...why'd she ever let him go?  
  
Han tried to act as if Luke's comment hadn't phased him. "I'm seeing this girl right now...she's all right. I dunno. Seems like there's a new chick every week, right?"  
  
Luke frowned. "Right..."  
  
Then he'd gone back to his old ways. Luke shook his head. Leia would just love that.  
  
Luke caught himself. Trying to play matchmaker, aren't you? He asked his mind. That won't work. Han and Leia need to follow their hearts, not yours.  
  
Luke got up from the stool. "I'd better go check on Hanna. If Windy hasn't got here yet, he probably isn't going to."  
  
Han stood in a hurry. "The Falcon's computer can run those diagnostics. If you guys want to..."  
  
Luke smiled cautiously. "If it's all right with Hanna." He let himself smile freely. "It's great to see you again." 


	5. Memories

Hanna was sitting cross-legged in the shade of the cantina, sifting through the sand before her with her fingers. She didn't look up when Han and Luke came and stood beside her, though Luke knew that she could sense them. "Windy never showed up, did he?" asked her uncle.  
  
Hanna shook her head, still concentrating on the sand.  
  
Han cleared his throat. He didn't want the first words that he spoke to his daughter to be sappy or false or any kind of pre-meditated, meaningful nonsense. He wanted to help her, to be friendly. He was never her father before, so why should he start now? He just wanted to be someone that she could like. He stuck his thumbs in his belt, trying to be casual. "Luke says your ship's got a bug."  
  
The girl looked up, daring to meet his eyes because of their mutual interest in the topic. She nodded. "The computer speaks gibberish and keeps shutting itself down. Luke's a mechanic, not computer technician, so he can't help."  
  
"Neither am I, but..."  
  
"Hanna, his ship can run the diagnostics. We just have to set up a link between your computer and his. Is that all right?"  
  
Hanna got up, dusted the sand off her sky-blue pants, and thought. Luke tried to look reassuring--he knew that this must be scary for her. At last, she nodded again. Luke smiled. He didn't know what would happen after today, but for now he was with Han again, and maybe Hanna would get to know her father, just a little.  
  
Suddenly, Luke had second thoughts about all of this. He wondered what Leia would do when she found out.  
  
  
  
As Luke watched father and daughter work together on their ships, he was glad to note their cautious ease with each other. They were both terrified, he knew, but their likeness to one another made it easier to be together.   
  
Luke let them talk and work as he walked around the Falcon. It was all almost as it was nineteen years ago. He'd flown in this ship as a youth, running away from the Empire with the Rebellion, going on missions, or sometimes just floating around, looking for excitement. In those days, Han, Leia and he were always together. Han and Leia fought like they were married; Luke and Leia were very close friends, bashful but affectionate with each other; Luke and Han were childish young men together--though Han was ten years his senior--making Leia roll her eyes but smile in spite of herself. Leia took three years to decide between Luke and Han, and when she finally did and chose Han, it was unknown to her that Luke had actually been her brother all along.   
  
So then things changed, but they were just as good as they had always been. Luke was much more mature, but still liked to joke like before; he and Leia began to understand the Force connection they had and also began to use it; Han and Leia were falling more and more in love, and Luke felt left out but was so happy for them. He noticed, however, that Leia was a lot more cautious than Han as far as their relationship went. That struck him as odd on one hand, because he'd thought Han would be afraid to commit to one woman, which turned out to not be the case. On the other hand, it made sense: Leia had always been so committed to Alderaan and then to the Rebellion that she found it very difficult to let herself love a person as much as she loved her cause. And then Hanna came along.  
  
Luke stood in the sleeping quarters of Han's ship, looking at the four bunks. He'd spent a lot of nights here, once. He'd learned a few years ago that it was possible to feel trace presences of a person in a place that they had spent a lot of time, even if it had been years before. Here he felt the presences of Han, Leia, Chewie, Lando, and Wedge. It was a comforting feeling--very, very comforting. Once he had considered the five of them his family, before Han left, Chewie went home to Kasyyacc, Lando went off on his own again, and Wedge started a family of his own. Now it was just Leia of the original five.   
  
Luke sighed and sat on one of the lower bunks. He had been just a child for most of those five years between the first Death Star and when Han left. He had been so easily pleased, to awed by all he saw, so fulfilled just to have friends who lived him. And he would give almost anything just to have that back.  
  
He wondered, if it had been up to him somehow, would he chose for Leia to have Hanna and for Han to leave, or for Hanna to have never been created and for his youth to seemingly never end. He shook his head, smiling. No, he knew what he'd choose. As much as he missed the way things were, he loved Hanna very much--she was like a daughter to him. He wouldn't give her up for anything.  
  
Luke raised his head to a knock at the doorway. Han was standing there, leaning up against the wall. Except for his gray hair, he could be twenty-eight, as he was at the Death Star, all over again.  
  
"You okay?" he asked.  
  
Luke nodded. "Yeah, I'm just...thinking."  
  
Han nodded knowingly. " 'Bout the old days."  
  
"Yes."  
  
Han sat opposite him, reminiscing. "Me an' Leia used to sleep here, you above us, Chewie across, and whoever else was along for the ride above him."  
  
"Except before there was a 'you and Leia,' you would sleep above Chewie."  
  
"Sometimes, if we needed an extra bunk, you'd sleep with Leia..."  
  
"That's because she trusted me--"  
  
Luke knew he shouldn't have said it as soon as it was out of his mouth. Han looked angry at his conjuring up the memory, though it would have been funny if his relationship with Leia hadn't ended the way it did.  
  
"I'm sorry, Han," Luke near-whispered.  
  
He just took a deep breath, and didn't say anything.  
  
"Kind of strange though," he Luke said, trying to lighten the mood, "being back here with you. I mean, on the Falcon."  
  
"Yeah. I could almost trick myself into thinking it's like twenty years ago." He smiled. "But we're gettin' too old to do the crazy things we used to."  
  
"Speak for yourself. I am not too old."  
  
Han laughed.  
  
"I'm not. I can still do all of the things I used to just as well. Some of them better."  
  
He shrugged. "Then maybe it's those damn Jedi robes. You look like old Ben Kenobi."  
  
Luke smiled and wanted to argue that his robes were nothing like Ben's, and besides which he was a lot younger than Ben still, and he would never have a beard. But he knew Han didn't mean it at all--he was just looking for ways to rile Luke. He loved doing that.  
  
"Fine, Han. Whatever you say."  
  
Han was taken aback. "Givin' in? That doesn't sound like the stubborn, whiney farmboy I knew."  
  
"Like you said, I'm old. I think I've grown out of the stubborn, whiney farmboy character."  
  
"We'll see."  
  
"So, did you figure out what's wrong with Hanna's X-wing?"  
  
Han nodded. He looked mildly worried. "Like I said, it's got a bug. But this looks like an intentional virus to me, kid. I think someone messed with Hanna's ship."  
  
Luke frowned. "But who would do that? Who would give her a virus that just causes the screen to display random letters and then shut down? Seems kind of pointless."  
  
"Yeah, well, me an' Hanna agreed that if the virus had kicked in while she was in hyperspace the ship would get spread across space-time."  
  
"And no more Hanna."  
  
"That's right."  
  
Luke sighed. If it wasn't one thing, it was another. "I am so tired of this. Why can't people just leave me and my family alone?"  
  
Han smiled. "Just like the old days, right, junior?" 


	6. Lectures

Author's note: I'm usually opposed to putting notes like these in the middle of a story, but I just wanted to thank all of my readers for the great reviews. I really appreciated them, especially the ones from old readers after new chapters. It's great to know you guys are still reading my story. If anyone has any questions (for instance, if something in the story is not clear), suggestions, criticism, praise, or constructive abuse to share, every word is read and taken into account. And also, thank you all for your patience in awaiting...  
  
Chapter Six  
  
Hanna Organa was more shaken by meeting the legendary Han Solo than she was upon discovering the virus in her X-wing's computer. More than anything, she was excited. She had seen her share of excitement, but this sounded more like the kind of thing that happened to Luke. He had such an exciting life. His tales of the flying with the Rebellion and fighting with Sith always made Hanna's hair stand on end in a good way. Sometimes, when she was flying off on her own, she would shoot at asteroids with imaginary twin ion engines. When she practiced with her lightsaber, the remote became in her mind a white-armored guard, who, like in Luke's stories, "couldn't hit the broad side of a bantha."  
  
Hanna's adventures consisted of maintaining the peace, like in the cantina, and rock climbing. Occasionally, a futile attempt would be made on her mother's life and Hanna would draw sword. But those encounters would just get her adrenaline flowing, that was all. She longed for something more...epic. Something involving mystery and magic and huge battles. Love, lies, and heroism.  
  
"There's no such thing as heroes," Luke would tell her. "I learned that the hard way. I don't want you to have to go through what I did before you get that into your head."  
  
He had said that to Hanna at least a dozen times, his voice serious yet teasing. His other favorite lectures were about how Hanna read too much, how she had her head in the stars, what his life was like when he was her age, and how fighting Sith was not "fun."  
  
"I know fighting Vader wasn't fun, but--"  
  
"No. It's never fun. They're people, Hanna. Living, thinking, feeling people like us. When I distroyed the Death Star, do you know how many people I killed?"  
  
Another of his favorite lectures. "Millions." They'd been through this before. Frankly, Hanna was tired of it.  
  
"I did it so the Rebellion and your mother would live. There was no other way. That's the only reason you ever take a life, Hanna. If there's no other way. And there almost always is."  
  
He didn't understand what she meant. She didn't want war. She wanted a story--a story like his. He'd been young once; he should remember. But he didn't. He wanted to, but he didn't.  
  
Hanna was sitting on the Falcon's ramp that evening, watching those familiar suns slowly sink below the horizon. The sky and sand and suns were ruddy, gold, pale pink. Tatooine was beautiful. She worshipped the dunes, the rock formations, and the endless blue sky. Maybe that was one of the reasons Luke didn't understand her. Their ideas of adventure were different. She thought Tatooine the perfect place for her epic. So romantic and...fun. While Luke had spent the first eighteen years of his life sitting in an adobe hut crouched in the wastes, wishing he were somewhere else.  
  
She sensed her uncle and Han behind her in the doorway. Han. She didn't exactly know what to make of him. She liked him. Very much. And things should have been ackward between them. But, strangely, they were not. Maybe that was what shook her the most. This man...her...father...had abandoned her mother. Why, she didn't know. She should be wary of him, uncomfortable around him. She should dislike him, or something about him. But she didn't. Maybe the brotherly affection she sensed between him and Luke helped quell her inhibitions. Maybe she was just her father's daughter.  
  
"Lucky Hanna." Luke joked, "You've just had your first assionation attempt." He sighed. "They grow up so fast."   
  
Hanna smiled.   
  
"Have any idea about who wants to kill you?"  
  
She shook her head. "Your guess is as good as mine. There was that guy in the cantina that hit me, but aside from him..." She shrugged.  
  
Han, hands in his pockets--half casually and half nervously--spoke up, "So, you two need a ride anyplace?"  
  
"You going to charge us?" Luke asked  
  
"Maybe."  
  
"Ten thousand, all in advance?"  
  
"You crazy, kid? You could almost buy your own ship for that."  
  
They both chuckled, and Hanna frowned. She didn't get it.  
  
"Is Coruscant on your way?" Luke asked.  
  
Han looked down. "I dunno, Luke. D'you think it'd be smart to..."  
  
"To get you that close to Leia? Han, you're just dropping us off."  
  
He sighed. "Yeah, but she'll know I'm there."  
  
"Maybe what you need is to see her again. It might put some things to rest."  
  
He considered. It was a very difficult decition for him. All of those years of wondering how she was feeling at that very moment. Where, if the whole mess had never happened, would he be sleeping that night? In Leia's arms? Would their love have lasted? Did it last until this day?  
  
"You're probably right. But I don't want to see her. It'd...be weird. But I'll drop you off, okay? And you better run quick off the ship, 'cause as soon as I hit the ground, I'm blasting out of there just as fast."   
  
Luke nodded. "Fine. Hanna, is that all right?"  
  
Hanna looked down in thought, but looked up again when she realized that that was the same thinking expression that Han had worn just a few minutes ago.  
  
*************  
  
Luke hadn't felt like arguing with his would-be brother when he had refused to see Leia. Normally, Luke would have lectured him about the importance of love and not hiding from your past, but it was such an old pain. Luke wanted to just let it heal for everyone's sake.   
  
Luke had caught Han staring at Hanna a few times that night while she slept and the other two stayed up talking. The Falcon hummed with the low rumble of hyperdrive engines and everything was still. Hanna looked like Leia while she slept, that was for sure. Luke wondered if Han could remember that night twenty-five years ago when Leia slept on the Falcon for the first time as they fled to Yavin IV. She was Hanna's age, a child then compared to Han's twenty-eight years. She was curvy, slightly chubby, long-haired and dark-eyed. Luke had wondered that night if Han was attracted to her--it was so hard to tell with him. Luke had been. He was in love with the fervor if delusional youth, ready to call any woman to whom he felt a connection his for the rest of his life. That night, he was only interested in Han's feelings as far as competition went. Tonight, Luke wanted to see longing in Han's eyes. Longing for the mother of the beautiful young woman that so resembled her.   
  
"That's right, kiddo," Han repeated. "Blasting in. Blasting out. You don't like it, her highness doesn't like it, tough."  
  
"What about your daughter?"  
  
Han didn't answer, but there was pain in his eyes. 


	7. Back to normal Or not?

Han had met his match at Sabbac for the first time. He and Hanna played all day on the last day of their flight to Courscant, laughing and making jokes at Luke's expense. Luke curled up on one of the couches in the lounge, reading and half-listening to them. He shook his head and protested good-naturedly, but in reality was just happy to hear them getting along so well. The two of them never brought up family in their conversations; they never once even mentioned to one another the fact that they were related. Hanna called him by his first name, as she always had with Luke, as if he was just Luke's friend that she had happened to like very much. Luke wished that they would have a serious conversation for once and try to make sense of it all, but why put a damper on their fun? If they could spend time together this way, then he was all for it.  
  
"Sith, Luke. You're just as boring as you always were," Han said late in the afternoon as he dealt another hand.  
  
Luke ignored him.  
  
"Yeah, Luke. Why are you so quiet all the time?" Hanna asked.  
  
"I'm trying to read."  
  
Han laughed. "Ya know, when I first met him," he joked to Hanna, "he was only about a meter and a half tall--"  
  
"That's not true." Luke didn't look up form his book.  
  
"And the greenest and most excitable kid I ever met. He was almost always smiling and jumping up and down. It was damned annoying. Not as annoying as this Jedi master crap, though."  
  
Hanna smiled. "I can't imagine Luke being like that. I've seen pictures of him from the war, and Mom's told me stories..."  
  
Han's smile faded. "What stories?"  
  
"Lots of stories. Like the Death Star and Bespin...it's hard to believe all of that really happened."  
  
"Believe me, it did." He paused, trying to be casual. "She tell you about me in those stories?"  
  
Hanna nodded. "Uh...a little. It's kind of hard to tell them and leave you out, I guess. Han?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I don't understand something, and I don't know how to ask Mom, and Luke doesn't know, so...can I ask you something?"  
  
He shrugged, his nervousness barely showing through. "Yeah."  
  
"If...if Mom ...loved you enough to spend six moths searching for you after Bespin...why did you break up?"  
  
Han didn't answer at first. "Good question," he said at last. "It's complicated."  
  
Hanna wasn't satisfied with his answer. She felt like she was being brushed off like a small child asking a grown-up question. "What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Listen--I don't want to talk about it, okay?"  
  
She stared at him stubbornly, but didn't press him for a further answer. They went back to playing cards.  
  
*************  
  
Luke was careful to not broadcast any thoughts or emotions to Leia as they landed in hopes that she wouldn't notice his presence. He hoped Hanna would do the same, but he didn't ask her to. Depending on their proximity to one another, he and Leia could unconsciously send emotions, physical sensations, thoughts and messages to one another. The further away they were, the more they had to try to make those things happen. The closer they were, the more they had to put up shields if they wanted any privacy.  
  
Then Luke remembered his theory about Senders--people who were not themselves Force-sensitive, but broadcasted thoughts, feelings, and their over-all presence into the living Force. Han was one, the first he'd encountered. And the ship had just about landed. It was too late. Leia knew he was on planet by now. Luke lowered his shields in defeat.  
  
*Luke, are you home?* he heard in his head. Leia's thoughts were worried, troubled. Though Leia had had very little experience with the Force by the time Han left, she had memorized his presence inside and out.  
  
*Yes,* was all Luke sent in reply.  
  
*Is...something wrong? What's going on?* she asked  
  
*Long story. Don't worry, he's leaving.*  
  
*He's HERE?*  
  
*Leia, stay were you are. Hanna's X-wing was malfunctioning. He gave us a ride home.*   
  
*He's met Hanna.* It was a statement. It was filled with wonder, not the panic Luke had expected. *Is she okay?*  
  
*She's fine.*  
  
Luke waited for her to send something else, but he just felt her emotions. She was excited, angry, awed, and confused. *Tell him to leave,* she sent after Luke felt a sudden sadness come over her.  
  
*You can't run from him.*  
  
More sadness. And anger. At Luke. *Yes I can.*  
  
*But he's leaving on his own. Don't worry,* he assured her.   
  
Luke felt Leia's presence to be in their apartment. She was staying put. Good.  
  
**********  
  
Neither Luke nor Hanna knew how to say good-bye to Han. They both stood staring at him, at a loss for words. "Thanks for the ride," Luke managed.  
  
"Any time," Han answered. He meant it.  
  
Luke hesitated a moment, then hugged Han tightly. "I've really missed having you around. Maybe...we'll see each other again."  
  
"Wouldn't surprise me. Seems like I'm always pulling you out of one kind of trouble or another."  
  
Then Han turned to Hanna, she silent with her hands in her pockets. "It was...nice to meet you," she said. Oh, man, Hanna thought. Is that the best I can come up with? "I mean, I had a lot of fun. Really."  
  
Han nodded. "Me too. Hey, take care of Luke, okay?"  
  
She smiled and nodded.  
  
"And...tell Leia that...never mind. Well, if you're ever on Corillia, look me up. Not likely I'll be at home, but you might as well try."  
  
She nodded again. After looking into each other's eyes for a moment, they turned away. Han went back into his precious ship, and Luke and Hanna went home. Looked like everything was going back to normal.  
  
***********  
  
Leia hadn't said much at dinner that night. Luke wondered if she somehow felt betrayed that he had allowed Hanna to be with her father. It seemed like Leia. But that was not the feeling that she was broadcasting. The feeling...it was complicated. Luke couldn't put a finger on it.  
  
In the middle of the night, Leia came into Luke's room and woke him up. She was crying.  
  
Luke was wide awake the minute he realized what was going on. He sat up and held Leia tightly. She cried on his shoulder for a long time; she was always true to her emotions when no one could see her but Luke. He kissed her hair, smoothing its long tresses. "Leia...what is it?"  
  
"You know perfectly well what it is."  
  
He didn't ask anymore. He didn't need to. He let her cry. They opened their minds to each other's, trying to take comfort in the understanding it gave them. They laid down in Luke's bed, and fell asleep in each other's arms, the pillow wet with Leia's tears.  
  
With daybreak they woke within seconds of each other. Luke was immediately aware of a presence of a certain Sender he should no longer sense. He frowned. He didn't understand. He was asleep, still in the docking bay...but he was on planet. He had said he was blasting right out again.  
  
Leia stirred. He looked at her in question, asking silently if she felt him too.  
  
"He's still here. Why is he still here?" She looked shaken, as if she had hoped that the new day would bring happiness, not the fear and grief and loneliness she had felt last night.  
  
Luke should his head. He had no idea. Perhaps Han had had a change of heart. Doubtful, but it had happened before.  
  
Luke got out of bed and got dressed, ran a hand through his hair. He didn't care how early it was and how late Han Solo was accustomed to waking up. He had to go see him. 


	8. Taking His Time

Han Solo woke up that morning to a confused and slightly angry Jedi standing over him. Luke's arms were crossed, his head tilted to one side. He looked a little like Leia did when she was upset but trying to be passive.   
  
"What the hell are you doing, Luke?" Han growled as he sat up. "What time is it?"  
  
"Early. What are you still doing here?"  
  
"Oh, I see. So now I'm not allowed to be here. You were doing all you could on the way here not to beg me to marry Leia and stay with her and Hanna. Why trying to get rid of me all of a sudden?"  
  
Luke didn't say anything at first. Damn Han and his attitude. "Han, you have to leave. You don't know what you're doing to Leia just being on planet."  
  
"What? Can't restrain herself? So let her come down here and throw herself at me. I'd be happy to--"  
  
"Han, just shut up!"  
  
"What's the matter with you?" Han frowned. This wasn't like Luke at all.   
  
Luke ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. "You know I can't stand it when Leia's upset, or when something's threatening or hurting her. It's the only thing that throws me over the edge like this." He sighed again and closed his eyes, calming himself. "I'm sorry I yelled at you."  
  
He nodded. "That's okay. Guess I had not right to joke about it, right?"  
  
Luke half-smiled. That was basically the closest Han ever came to apologizing. "Han, what are you still doing here?"  
  
Han hated to admit the real reason. He'd like to think he was staying because he chose to, because he could do what he wanted when he wanted. He came and went as he pleased. Except when... "Damn hyperdrive..."  
  
Luke stared at him in disbelief for a minute. Then he laughed out loud. "What?"  
  
Han smiled and shook his head. "You'd think I'd have it figured out by now, right?"  
  
Luke nodded.   
  
"Hey, but when you keep pushing an engine to go faster and faster when she should have been scrapped along ago, it's bound to happen."  
  
"You still make your own 'special modifications?'"  
  
"All the time. That's the real problem."  
  
Luke sat beside Han on the bunk. "Thanks. I needed to laugh."   
  
Han noticed that Luke looked like he had just rolled out of bed--he probably had. But he looked tired, too, as if he hadn't slept all night. "Luke, what am I doing to Leia, just being on planet?"  
  
Luke met his eyes before telling him, judging his motivations. "She cried all night, Han. You need to leave."  
  
Han snorted. "The old Luke would have wanted us to work it out."  
  
"There is no old Luke and new Luke. I'm the same person you knew during the Rebellion. I've just learned a thing or two about love since then. I want you to work it out...but it was so long ago, Han. There's no reason to upset Leia like this with something so old."  
  
"Luke?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"You weren't kidding when you said you'd been hurt before. Someone hurt you bad."  
  
Luke didn't answer.  
  
"Who was she, kid?"  
  
"It doesn't matter."  
  
"What'd she do to you?"  
  
Luke paused, willing the memories back down into the dark corners of his mind. But they wouldn't stay there. "She died," he whispered.  
  
Suddenly Han understood Luke's chosen solitude. To have that happen...Han had lost lovers a lot of ways, nearly every way he could think of. But not that way. That would be...unbearable.  
  
"How?"  
  
Luke took a deep breath. "Uh...well, I'll start from the beginning. It happened about ten years ago. She was a friend of Wedge's. He set us up. We didn't know each other long before it happened, but...I was so in love with her. I've had five lovers since you left, Han, and I never loved anyone like I loved her."  
  
Han knew that Luke would never be with a woman he didn't love; in the past they had had numerous arguments on the subject. While Han took most relationships casually, Luke never could. Han had told him that he did believe in true love, and if it happened, great. But if it didn't, there was no way he was going to live like a priest in the meantime.  
  
"She was Corillian." He smiled. "Maybe my family is just attracted to them for some reason. She had this beautiful low voice...she'd sing songs with Hanna...and..."  
  
"How long were you with her?"  
  
"Three months. I wanted to marry her. But...she was killed when her ship crashed when she was going home to visit her family." He passed a hand over his eyes and laughed at himself. "I'm sorry. It's hard to talk about. It was so long ago, and it was only for a little while, but it was so unexpected. It was hard to recover form."  
  
Han sat stunned. He felt bad for saying that in the cantina, about how Luke had never been hurt like Leia had hurt him. Maybe no one had ever hurt him like that, but he had been hurt so deeply that Han would no longer consider himself unlucky. What if Leia had been killed nineteen years ago? He would never have been able to forgive himself, even if there was nothing he could have done.  
  
"I'm sorry. I...I didn't know..." was all Han could bring himself to say in comfort.  
  
Luke shrugged. "It's all right. I'm starting to get used to it. I've been with other women since her, but it's never been the same. Still, I've moved on."  
  
Luke stared at the floor for a long moment, silent.   
  
"Well, anyway," he began again, "that doesn't solve Leia's problem."  
  
"Look, kid, I don't owe Leia anything. For nineteen years I've steered clear of Coruscant just to stay out of her way and I'm tired of it. If I want to stay in Imperial City to fix my ship, that's my business. But as soon as the hyperdrive is fixed, I'm going back to Corillia, getting really drunk, and finding a nice girl to spend the night with. After that, I'm finding a job. When that's done I'll do it all over again. Maybe I'll spend Life Day with Chewie's family. But that's the closest I'm gonna come to settling down."  
  
"Han, I didn't say anything--"  
  
"Yeah, but since I ran into you you've been laying guilt trips on me about Hanna and Leia. So I hurt Leia? Leia hurt me too. And as for Hanna...she's a great kid, and I like her a lot. But she'll never be mine, Luke. You've been raising her to be a Jedi since the day she was born. She's not mine."  
  
Luke sighed. He was right. Well, for the most part. "Fine. Need help with your ship?"  
  
It was almost a reproach the way he said it. Han shook his head. "Never have, never will."  
  
"Okay. Well," he rose to go, "if you change your mind..."  
  
Han watched him go, and somehow felt that he would never see him again after the talk they'd had. Not unless he called him back right now.  
  
"Wait. Luke!"  
  
He stepped back into the room; his eyes gave away the fact that he was expecting Han to say something to make up for all he just had.  
  
"You find out who's trying to kill Hanna?"  
  
Luke shook his head. "Not yet. I've got techs and hackers of all kind working on her ship's computer, though. They should know at some point today. As soon as they do..."  
  
"You're out of here, tracking down whoever it is. Saving my daughter's life."  
  
Luke nodded.   
  
"Keep me posted on that, okay?"  
  
Luke smiled. "Sure thing. Han, if it turns out to be something serious, and I need some back-up..."  
  
"Don't count on it." Han warned harshly. But then he softened. "But maybe. We'll see. But I ain't gonna commit to anything."  
  
"Han, you're talking like a mercenary."  
  
"What do you think I am?"  
  
Luke pursed his lips. "Not what we used to think you were. You ruined that reputation little by little during the Rebellion. I'm not going to believe that that's the way you really think even for a second."  
  
And he left.  
  
Han went back to sleep. He'd take his time getting off of Coruscant. Luke didn't like it, her Highness didn't like it, tough. 


	9. At Fault

Readers--  
I don't know if you guys read the review page for this story, but recently I got a review pointing out some reasons my story is not cannon. I'm not upset about it, and I don't mean to make it seem like I am. I just wanted to point out the fact that if I'm not following cannon for after the movies, why should I be following the cannon of before the movies? I have read most of the Star Wars books, and the ones I have not read I have made it my business to familiarize myself with the characters and situations to a certain extent. I know vaguely what Han's past was "really" like, but for my purposes, his past was different. Everything I include in my stories has a reason, every time I don't follow cannon it is either for the sake of the plot, to make the story feel more realistic, or to make a point that needs to be made. I apologize for not explaining this before. But let's all face the facts: "cannon" Star Wars novels are just really long, published fanfiction. Just because they're published doesn't mean they're "right."  
--The Author   
  
Chapter 9  
  
Later that same day, Han got lonely. His ship was silent. He worked on her with a tender touch, but she didn't provide the comfort that she once had. It was amazing how quiet Coruscant could be at times. Inside the private docking bay that Luke had managed to get security to give him when they landed, the bustle of the capitol city could not be heard.  
  
That made it all the more lonely. It was so quiet.  
  
Things had been better when Chewie'd been around. When Han left Coruscant that last time nineteen years ago, he'd left without telling anyone where he'd be going--not even Chewbacca. He was too angry, too wounded. He hadn't wanted anyone to see him like he was, or to deal with anyone. He had wanted to get as far away as possible, as fast as he could. Before he modified her so she could be flown by him alone, the Falcon was nearly impossible to fly without his long-time copilot. But he'd made it. A couple years later he had ventured to Kasyyacc to tell Chewie he was sorry for running off without him. He'd lived with Chewie's family for a few months, and when he went off again, Chewie had wanted to join him to fulfill his lifedebt. Han had smiled and told Chewie that the lifedebt was paid. He had saved Han's life before, and they were too good of friends to deal with a formality such as that. When Chewie still insisted, saying their friendship was what made him want to pay the lifedebt more than any formalities, Han had taken him aside and explained something to him.   
  
"You got a family, pal," Han had said, lowly. He didn't want Mala or anyone to hear him pour his hear out. Well, as close to it as he ever came, anyway. "You've been with them the past few months, but before that, when was the last time you spent more than a week with Mala and your son?"  
  
Chewie shrugged.  
  
"You have an obligation to them too. More than you do to me. And I ain't gonna take that away from you."  
  
It had taken a lot of persuading, but finally Han had gotten Chewie to stay with his family. He wanted for him to be happy...and he wanted to give to him what had been taken away from Han himself.  
  
A few months later, Han came to visit again. Mala told him that Luke called last month and told her that Leia had given birth to a girl. Han hadn't wanted to talk about it.  
  
Han threw down his tools. He was tired of working alone. Maybe that same girl would want to help him fix the old hyperdrive. She was good with tools, and her youthful liveliness was refreshing to Han. He loved when he saw some of himself in her cocky humor, or when her eyes reminded him of Luke's the way they had been when he was a kid. As long as she didn't get all smart on him and start acting like a princess, it was all right being around her. I was better than all right. The girl was starting to grow on him.  
  
He took his comlink form his pocket and was about to call up to Hanna's room, but he changed his mind. What if Leia answered? He wouldn't know what to say. Damnit--he wished he had those powers like the rest of them had, sometimes. If only to tell when someone wasn't home.  
  
Instead he decided to call Luke's personal comm to ask if he knew where Hanna was. They spoke briefly; Luke seemed a little frustrated at hearing from him, but after Han inquired after Hanna he lightened up. He said she was in the apartment, and gave him directions. He assured Han that Leia wouldn't be there. She was busy all day, every day. "Good," Han murmured when he clicked off. He was on his way immediately.  
  
**********  
  
Luke's directions were a little misleading; Han remembered a little too late that Luke was one of those people with no idea of where exactly anything was, only of how they were used to getting there. But Han found the apartment eventually. He wiped his greasy hands on his pants, then knocked on the door.   
  
He'd expected Hanna to answer. Of course he had--Leia was working somewhere in the lower levels of the palace and Luke was with those techs and Hanna's X-wing. He felt his heart stop and his face go pale when Hanna wasn't the one who answered.  
  
And of course, Leia was just as surprised when she saw him.  
  
They stood stunned for a long time. Both were too surprised to do anything else, but Leia recovered first.  
  
Han was just thinking how beautiful she was, how unchanged. She was thinner, and she looked tired form loss of sleep the night before, but she was...beautiful...like she'd always been....  
  
It wasn't until Leia began to glare at him that he got hold of his thoughts. What was he doing just standing there? Say something, he commanded himself. Anything.  
  
But Leia, with a dangerous edge in her voice, spoke before he could. "What are you doing here?"  
  
Han folded his arms, gaining control of himself, putting on that same roguish air that, even he knew, was getting old. "I took your daughter home, princess. There was an attempt on her life. I came to her rescue."  
  
"MY daughter?" Leia nearly yelled. "MINE? She's your daughter, too, Captain. But you seem to have forgotten that."  
  
"Oh, yeah? Can you blame me? You told me I'd be a lousy father. What the hell was I supposed to do but cut outta here as fast as I could?"  
  
"I told you that you weren't READY. I didn't tell you to get out of her life for ever!"  
  
"Oh, so you were going to wait around until I WAS ready, and then when I'd stopped being a bad influence for our daughter that you were raising to be little miss perfect, THEN I could be in the picture? It don't work that way, your Worship. And you know what? Keeping me away didn't work either. I spent three whole days with Hanna and she's a Solo through and through. You can't suppress genes, sweetheart."  
  
Leia clenched her teeth. "I don't know what I ever saw in you. I let my guard down for two years and look what it got me. I was alone and pregnant, and you were nowhere to be found. I thought I loved you." She shook her head. "What was I thinking? I thought I'd found something inside of you, some semblance of humanity, of decency...I wish I'd known that you were really like this all along."  
  
She slammed the door on his face before Han could speak up again. She'd struck a nerve with that last one. "I thought I loved you," Han murmured under his breath bitterly. "I hate women. I hate that woman." He knocked on the door again, but his only response was, "Go away!" from within.  
  
"C'mon, Leia. I didn't come here to see you. Hanna there?"  
  
There was a pause and silence, but Leia opened the door again. She seemed somewhat softened by his interest. "No. She's not here."  
  
"Do you know where she is?"  
  
Leia shook her head. "She'd old enough to take care of herself. Why?"  
  
"I needed help with the Falcon. Wondered if she had some free time."  
  
Leia shook her head again. "Sorry. I don't know where she is."  
  
Han nodded. He caught Leia's eye for a second, trying to see what she was feeling without giving away what he was. But her dark, dark eyes gave away nothing. Years of politics had made that possible. "You...want to talk this over?"  
  
Leia shrugged. "There's no point, Han."  
  
Another pause. They looked away from each other, suddenly uncomfortable letting their eyes draw them together like that.   
  
"You want to come in for a minute?" Leia asked at last.   
  
Han shrugged. "Nah...I don't wanna bother you."  
  
Leia smiled bitterly. "You had me fooled."  
  
Han smiled back, but with honesty. She smiled too, meeting his eyes again.  
  
Those eyes of hers. Those eyes had haunted Han's memory for nineteen years, and now that he was seeing them again, they were so much more beautiful than he remembered. "Maybe for just a minute," he agreed. "I think...for Hanna's sake, we need to try to get along. Better late than never, right?"  
  
Han sat on Leia's velvet couch for half the afternoon and drank half a bottle of red wine with her. They talked about trivial things, or about Hanna. Sometimes they related stories of what had happened to each of them since they split up. But it was all just in trying to avoid more heated topics. In the middle of Han's third glass, he began to lose his inhibitions. He was nowhere near drunk--he was no lightweight when it came to alcohol, that was for sure--but he was just tipsy enough to have a looser tongue. He knew Leia was too.  
  
"Do you remember the night we conceived Hanna?" he asked without caution.  
  
Leia nodded remenisingly. She was trying not to be angry with Han anymore. For Hanna's sake. "It was the middle of summer. It was a warm night...you'd just come home from the front line and you brought me a bottle of Alderaanean champagne."  
  
"We drank the whole bottle."  
  
She laughed. "We did. No wonder we weren't careful that night..."  
  
"Do you regret it?"  
  
She shook her head. "No. I love Hanna very much. But it was hard."  
  
"I--I wish I'd been there."  
  
Leia looked up in surprise. She'd never expected Han to express any regret for leaving. She expected the anger and bitterness towards her that he had voiced earlier, but not this. "Do you?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
They were close together, getting closer, talking softly. Han remembered their first kiss like it was yesterday. The way, even as they were drawing together, they had been arguing. That was the way their relationship had been.   
  
Han remembered. And he kissed her again.  
  
Leia drew in her breath in shock, but she kissed him back. Han had been waiting for this for nineteen years, longing for it even when he wouldn't admit it to himself. She was all he had ever wanted, but she had sent him away, and now...  
  
Leia pushed him away decidedly. "Stop!" she protested angrily. "What do you think you're doing?"  
  
Han put his wine glass on the table and stood to leave. "You kissed me back, doll, if you didn't notice!"  
  
Leia put her glass down too and stood. "You think that you can just waltz into my life, get me half-drunk, start sweet talking about the old days, and make love to me on my couch as if nothing happened?"  
  
"Damnit, Leia! Is it always my fault? It was your wine. I didn't get you half-drunk."   
  
Leia growled in frustration. "Everything is your fault! Get out of here!"  
  
"I was about to!" Han stopped at the door and turned to face her. "I suppose it's my fault that I left you too, huh? Even though you sent me away, it's my fault. Everything's my fault!"  
  
He slammed the door behind him and went back to his ship. He wanted her blasting out of here by nightfall. 


	10. Sounds Like Fun

Luke could sense Han's seething anger before he walked into the hanger. Luke was standing behind a hacker who was trying to decipher a fragment of code they had found among the binary language of the virus. It was not much, but it would, hopefully, hold some clue as to who had it in for Hanna. Luke could think of a dozen ex-Imperials and New Republic bureaucrats who would much prefer it if Hanna were dead, because her many talents and casual, childish attitude were both annoying to the people and hindering to their carriers. She was good at what she did, and good at heart, with never even trying. It drove people mad.  
  
But he could think of no one who would actually try to kill her. The Empire was dead: there had been absolute peace in the New Republic for fourteen years. There were no warlords, no Sith....  
  
Oh.  
  
Luke hadn't thought of him. Max Winnick...his defeat...his failing, shortcoming. He had not been ready to train Jedi....  
  
He leaned closer over the hacker's chair, then pulled back again when he realized that he might be making him uncomfortable.   
  
Then Han came up behind him, so he had a distraction.  
  
"Any luck?" Han asked, as nonchalantly as he could.  
  
"None yet," Luke answered, watching the way Han would not meet his eyes, feeling his irritation and resentment. "What happened?"  
  
Han glared. "You tell me, Jedi. You're supposed to know where she is at all times. You have some kind of 'bond' with her--"  
  
"What are you talking about?" He asked, frowning. He didn't like the way Han leered at him, at his gift, at his connection to Leia. Then it dawned on him: the reason Leia had been blocking him all afternoon. "You saw her?"  
  
"I sat with her for three hours, making small talk and drinking. It was fun. At first."  
  
"And then?"  
  
Han clenched his teeth. "I don't want to talk about it." But then, a moment later, "She's impossible! Luke, do you blame me for leaving her?"  
  
"I..." he didn't know.   
  
"Do you?"  
  
He still didn't know. "I don't think so."  
  
"I mean, what would you of done?"  
  
Han wasn't looking at him, and Luke knew he was just venting. He didn't really want Luke's opinion. He opened his mouth to speak, but Han cut him off.  
  
"Don't give me any of that self-righteous crap that you spout all the time. I don't want your opinion."  
  
Luke sighed. They were both impossible. In spite of their different upbringings and breeding, they had been drawn together by the brightness with which each other's spirit burned. But the thing that drew them together was the same thing that would always keep them apart.   
  
Luke tried to break through Leia's barrier. He needed to know if she was all right. But she wasn't letting him through. *Leia? Leia, please.... * he sent, but no answer came. He needed to protect her. It had always been his most basic instinct, since the day he had first seen her in the holo, pleading for Ben's help.  
  
"General Skywalker?"  
  
Luke looked up. The hacker was looking at him with dark eyes, reddened from staring at a screen for so long, but he seemed relieved, now. "I found something."  
  
The code he had been working with was a series of dots, put together in groups. They had assumed that each group stood for a rune of the Aurabesh, but it hade proven more complicated. "I think its code for a holo image. If I had a..."  
  
"Oh, right." Luke hurried off to get a holo emitter from a storage room where he knew one was thrown in pell-mell with many other random pieces of equipment. When he returned, the hacker hooked it up to the computer he had been working with--which was, in turn, hooked up to Hanna's X-wing--and continued working. "It'll take a few more minutes," he explained.  
  
In those few minutes, Luke felt Leia's shields lower. *Luke?* she sent cautiously.  
  
*I'm here. Are you okay?*  
  
*He...he kissed me...*  
  
Her thoughts were more full of wonder than anger. She was no longer shocked at Han's brazen actions, nor was she angry with him. All Luke felt from her was a dull hurt, and wonder at what had transpired.  
  
Shocked, Luke looked at Han. He was so caught up in looking over the hacker's shoulder that he didn't notice. *Then what happened?* Luke asked into the Force.  
  
*I sent him away. I didn't know what else to do.*  
  
Luke sent warmth out to Leia, offering consolation that he didn't know how to put into words. She returned it, and he smiled softly.  
  
"There." The hacker pushed some final keys, looked up at Luke. "I've got it."  
  
A fuzzy image appeared over the concave disk of the holo emitter. After some knobs were turned to fine tune it, Luke was able to make it out. The rune Senth, a backwards check with a dash on its left side, glowing gold. It was three-dimensional, shiny-looking as if make of chrome pipes. There was a faint reddish haze all around it. Two lightsabers, one red and one green, crossed in the background, handles high and blades down. The red crossed before the green.  
  
Luke clenched his teeth. Just as he had suspected. *I'll be leaving today,* he sent to Leia.  
  
*Why? Who did it?*  
  
*Max. I don't know what he wants with Hanna, but I know it's him.*  
  
Leia was silent.  
  
Han studied the image for a long while. "That looks like..."  
  
Luke nodded. "The Jedi coat of arms. But the Jedi has the rune Jenth, and the sabers are blue and green, and they're facing up. And the rune is silver." He opened his robe to show Han th Jedi coat of arms embroidered on his undertunic.  
  
"Then this..."  
  
"I had a student about ten years ago, Han. His name was Max Winnick. He was fourteen, bright, spirited. Very talented. But, I lost him when he and I started arguing about philosophy and ideals. He didn't agree with the Jedi principals. He ran away, threatened to train others to use the Force as he saw it. He was just a boy...I didn't worry very much. It's been so long, now, and this is the first I've heard of him."  
  
"How do you know it's him?"  
  
"He designed the Jedi coat of arms, he has a gift for cipher, and he's the only one I've trained that has strayed from me. Hanna, Max, and two others have been my only students. It's pretty easy to keep track of."  
  
"What does he want with Hanna?"  
  
"Probably just to get back at me. But I'm not sure." Luke folded his arms, thinking.  
  
Han looked hard at the holo. "Why leave his mark with the virus?"  
  
"He probably wants to be found, for one reason or another. Feel like taking me back to Tatooine?"  
  
"Why Tatooine?"  
  
"That's were the virus was put into Hanna's computer. It's the best place to start looking."  
  
Han nodded. "Sure. I'll come. Hey, fighting Sith, solving mysteries...sounds like fun, right?"  
  
Luke laughed. "You sound like Hanna."  
  
"No, she sounds like me."  
  
* * * *   
  
Of course, Hanna Organa was not at all shaken by the thought of going to find Max. She was all for it. "Sounds like fun," she said when Luke broke the news to her, and started packing right away.  
  
Standing in the doorway to Hanna's bedroom, Han smiled triumphantly. When he and Luke left the room, Han said, "Ain't she a great kid?"  
  
"I wish she would grow up a little."  
  
Han shrugged. "She got that part from your side of the family. When I met you, you acted about ten."  
  
Luke rolled his eyes.   
  
Leia came out of her room with a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. Instead of the slightly formal tunics and gowns she usually wore around Coruscant, she wore tight brown pants and a white jacket. Her air was knotted loosely at the nape of her neck. A blaster was slung on her belt.  
  
"What the hell..." Han murmured. "Where do you think you're going?"  
  
Leia stood straighter, trying to keep her voice even. "Tatooine. With you three."  
  
Han shook his head. "Oh, no you're-"  
  
Luke cut him off. "Why?"  
  
"I need a break. In the old days it was all adventures and fun. Now all I do is paperwork and give speeches."  
  
"And argue," Luke reminded her.  
  
"Yeah, but that's nothing new," Han said under his breath. Leia glared at him. "Hey, wait a minute." Han frowned. "This is my ship we're taking. Who said you could come?"  
  
"I did, Capitan. Hanna is my daughter and I want to make sure that this problem is taken care of."  
  
"Let me get this strait. When you're mad at me for leaving, Hanna is our daughter. When you're claiming responsibility for her, she's your daughter-"  
  
"Capitan, we're going to be spending a lot of time together for the next few weeks, and I suggest we do not start out bickering." She boosted her bag up on her shoulder and headed out the door.   
  
"Save us from princesses." Han sighed. Luke got his bag and Hanna hers, and they were on their way. 


	11. Upon Arrival

Chapter Eleven  
  
Luke watched with mixed emotions as Han and Leia nonchalantly avoided one another on the way to Tatooine. It was both amusing and distressing, the way denied ever having previously known one another, the way one ducked out of a room when the other entered, the way they each tried to claim Hanna as their own without claiming her theirs. He hadn't brought up the kiss to either of them, though he knew all three of them were preoccupied with thinking about it. He wondered what Hanna would do if she knew.  
  
The first night en route, as the others slept, Luke sat in the cockpit, thinking, the blue-witness of hyperspace dazzling his eyes. He worried about what would happen when he found Max. Once, as a young adolescent, Max had hung on his every word and followed him wherever he went, determined one day to be a Jedi himself. When the change came over him it came so suddenly that Luke hadn't known what to do. Hanna had been devastated when he left--he was her best friend, though five years her elder.  
  
Luke had been distraught beyond compare, though he did not fear much for Max. After all, he was young. There could be no danger in what he did with his powers. Luke had been certain of that.   
  
Now, he wasn't so sure. What if he'd done the wrong thing by letting Max go?  
  
He was still confused as to what Max wanted with Hanna, though he was fairly convinced that it was only some sort of attention or recognition he was after.   
  
Hanna quietly walked into the cockpit and sat beside Luke. "I can't sleep," she explained.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"My...my parents are here. Together. It's unsettling..."  
  
That was the first Luke had heard from Hanna about how she felt about all of this. "You want to talk about it?"  
  
She shrugged. "No."  
  
She paused, then, in typical Solo fashion, talked about it anyway. "Were they in love, Luke? Really in love?"  
  
"When they had you?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
"Yes. Don't ever doubt that, Hanna. They loved each other. It just...didn't work out."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"They're very different people, from very different worlds. They just didn't get along."  
  
"If I hadn't come along--"  
  
"Hanna, it's not your fault you were born. It's the fault of Han Solo's lack of common sense."  
  
Hanna smiled slightly.  
  
"Besides, if they'd stayed together longer, your mother would have wanted to have children someday, so she and Han would have had this same argument."  
  
"He didn't want me?"  
  
Luke shrugged. "I don't know. Leia sent him away before he could tell anyone. It's not your fault, Hanna. They just argued all the time..."  
  
She considered that. "I know it's not my fault. But I still don't understand how, if they loved each other--"  
  
"Neither do I. I don't think they really understand, either."  
  
***********  
  
Tatooine. The planet furthest from the proverbial bright center of the universe. An analogy that sounded strange when you saw how bright it looked from orbit.   
  
The falcon orbited half-way around the planet before landing in Mos Eisley. Luke wasn't sure where or how to begin to find Max. Because he hadn't been able to sense his presence on planet the last time, it was likely that he was using some advanced blocking technique. As the ramp lowered into the cool Tatooiese evening, he suggested that they all lay low for a while.  
  
"You sure this boy's on planet, kid?" Han asked.  
  
"I'm sure he wants something from me, or with me. He'll be keeping his eyes out for me here, whether or not he's actually on planet."  
  
Han stretched, walking out into the dwindling sunlight. "I need a drink."  
  
"That's not a bad idea," Leia agreed under her breath.  
  
"Right...why don't you two take care of that and pick us all up some dinner?" Luke suggested, a little dryly. He'd let them go be drinking buddies for a while. "Hanna and I will go look for a place to stay."  
  
"A place to--what the hell is wrong with the Falcon?" Han demanded.  
  
Leia cocked her head regally. "Captain, I don't want to stay on your ship any longer than I have to."  
  
"Well, I'm sorry she ain't up to your high personal standards, Princess," Han growled. As Leia started off on her own, he gestured for Luke to take her with them. Luke just gave him a look as he and Hanna walked off together.  
  
Han shrugged helplessly. Oh, well. Maybe after a drink or two he'd be able to put up with Leia.  
  
**********  
  
It wasn't easy to find clean rooms in hotels and apartment buildings in Mos Eisley, but Luke and Hanna knew where to look.  
  
They walked down a corridor to the four little rooms they had rented. They were both silent. Something felt off.  
  
The hallway was well-lit, but too still. The lights above buzzed with excited electrons. It was the only sound save for the quiet footfalls of the two Jedi.   
  
They were about to round a corner, when the feeling of immediate danger prickled the backs of their minds. They both drew their lightsabers, but they were too late.  
  
Without seeing who attacked, or feeling any shots, blows, or cuts, Luke fell unconscious, Hanna beside him.  
  
**********  
  
Leia watched Han down his glass of whisky in one go. He hadn't changed. At all. He was still the self-centered, poorly groomed, loud-mouthed drunk that he always had been. But those eyes--oh, gods, those eyes. No matter how angry everything about him made her, all she had to do was look into his eyes and forgive him everything, because his eyes never lost their poise and emotion. There had always been almost a sadness to them; not a tragic sadness, but a dull sort of sorrow that Leia know traced back to his childhood. She'd known him very well once, everything about him.  
  
Leia sipped her own glass of wine, trying not to look at him. Maybe Luke was right. Maybe she did drink too much. But she wasn't the one taking shots of Corillan whisky.  
  
Suddenly, she felt as if the air had been forced out of her lungs. She stood up in shock, but her vision exploded in stars and her head spun. She clutched the bar for support.  
  
Next thing she knew, she was sitting back down. Her hand was tight in Han's. "Leia, what is it?" he was asking anxiously.  
  
Leia took some deep breaths, not noticing the way he had reacted to her distress, as if every small pain of hers was inflicted on him tenfold. "It's Hanna. And Luke. They're...I can't..."  
  
"Okay, take it easy." He put his other hand on her shoulder protectively. "They in trouble?"  
  
She nodded and stood up despite Han's pleas for her to sit down. "Come on."  
  
They ran in the direction of the hotel where Leia had felt Hanna and Luke lose consciousness, but half way there she stopped. She just stood while Han caught up, panting. "What--"  
  
"They're gone. They're off planet." She wiped tears from her eyes and started for the docking bays and the Falcon. Han followed.  
  
Running in from the night, up the ramp of the Falcon, Han asked, "If they go to hyperspace--"  
  
"Then we'll follow them. Luke taught me how."  
  
She was strapped into her seat before Han made it to the cockpit. He strapped himself in too, mumbling, "I'm too old for this."  
  
The ship blasted out of the docking bay at full speed, in hot pursuit of a ship that only Leia could see in her mind. As soon as they cleared the atmosphere, Han got ready for lightspeed. When the third lever was pulled they should have gone off like a shot.  
  
But all that went off were the engines, with an almost mocking whirring sound.  
  
Leia sighed and closed her eyes as if in pain. "Han!"  
  
He put his head in his hands. "Damnit!"  
  
When he looked up, he expected to find Leia glaring at him. But all he found in her eyes was hurt, sorrow.   
  
"Last time I fixed her, I did a half-assed job so I could get you three to Tatooine. I thought after I got you here I'd have time to fix her..."  
  
"Hyperdrive?" Leia asked.  
  
Han nodded.  
  
Leia nodded in determination. She unstrapped herself and stood. "We'd better get to work, then."  
  
Han nodded too. "I guess we'd better." 


	12. Prelude to a Kiss

Chapter 12  
Memories of the Revolution were not wanting for Leia as she and Han scrambled to repair the Falcon. Though she was fuming at him--absolutely fuming--she realized that if she was ever going to get Hanna and Luke back, she had to get along with him. No anger, she told herself. Be like Luke. Be peace.  
  
Twenty years ago, as Leia and Han rushed to repair the Falcon of the same ailment, they had been on worse terms than they were now. As Leia realized that, she paused in the turning of a lever. Was that so? She brushed a wisp of hair away from her face in thought. No, it couldn't be so. Things could not possibly be worse than they were now. She couldn't stand the sight of Han. Twenty years ago, she had at least been able to scream at him to his face.  
  
She could almost hear Luke asking her what exactly she was afraid of now.  
  
Damn Luke, always making her confront her feelings!  
  
She let out a frustrated sigh, turning the lever with all of her strength. She was just about to put the Force behind it when she felt arms around her. They were not there for her; they were there to push the lever, to add their strength to hers.  
  
She pushed Han away angrily, but paused and looked at him in shock when it dawned on her that this some situation had been a prelude to their first kiss. By the look on Han's face, he realized it too.  
  
"Sorry," he apologized nervously, turning away.  
  
"I can handle it," she said in return, trying to keep her voice even. "Thanks anyway."  
  
"If you need help..."  
  
"I'll let you know."  
  
The way he held her eyes before leaving made her whole body shake and burn. It was the way he used to look at her, before Hanna came.  
**********  
  
Six hours later, frazzled, angry, exhausted, and anxious, Leia sat once again in the copilot's seat. She let her hair down, intending to do it up again in braid crowns quickly, but by the way Han glanced sidelong at it; she knew she would have to do something quicker. Han used to say that her hair hanging loose turned him on more than about anything else. She remembered too late.  
  
But Han...he'd changed. It had been nineteen years, after all, but she hadn't expected him to have quieted down so much. He was much more civil, spoke much more softly. The day she first saw him again, the day he kissed her, he had been putting on a protective front so as not to let her hurt him--she knew that now. Han was no longer much of one to argue or call names. He just wanted everything to run smoothly. Maybe that was why she hadn't cursed him when the hyperdrive died. It had either been that or the fact that she logically knew that getting angry could not help her family. It would only waste time.  
  
Maybe Han's somewhat detached, silent demeanor, his lack of a need to rile her every second, was because of the time they had once spent together. It was not as if they could go back to square one because they'd been separated on bad terms, not after being lovers.  
  
Lovers. Leia paused as her mind rolled over that word. She had only had one love in her whole life and there he was, sitting right next to her, after all of these years of wanting and missing...  
  
And hating and crying.  
  
What she'd done nineteen years ago had been for a reason, she reminded herself. She couldn't take Han back just because Hanna was grown up. The same personality flaws that would have made him a bad father would have made him a bad life partner, too. He definitely was not husband material, and even if they had been able to get along as a married couple, eventually Leia would have wanted children. And she couldn't trust Han to father them. No matter what, it would have happened sooner or later anyway.  
  
"Hey."  
  
Leia blinked, looked up. "What?"  
  
"You okay?" Han asked, both trying to sound concerned and unconcerned.  
  
"I was just thinking."  
  
He sighed and flicked some switches. "You ready for lightspeed?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
"Still got the trail?"  
  
Leia shut her eyes tightly, trying to relax. She had had quite a bit of training, but she was nowhere near as good as Luke. He said it was because she had waited until she was twenty-five to begin, to even touch the tip of the iceberg. The younger you are when you start, and the more time you have to practice, the more powerful you will be. He kept promising that she would get there...  
  
"Sort of."  
  
Han stared at her lamely. "'Sort of?'"  
  
"It's been so long since they left...I think...Somewhere...over there." She pointed to a piece of sky that looked like the rest of the sky--black, dotted with random white lights. "They were headed for the Dufilvan Sector. At least they were when they left."  
  
Han nodded, setting a course in the navacomputer. "It's a start, babe. It's a start."  
  
Leia flinched. He used to caller her that in bed. Why bring it up now? "Don't call me that," she growled.  
  
Han flashed her a smile. "You used to like it."  
  
"That was a long time ago. Don't joke with me either."  
  
As soon as they were in hyperspace, Leia leaned back in her chair and breathed deeply. She didn't think Luke could hear her--he was so far away--but she called to him anyway. *Luke,* she said in her mind, we're coming. *Tell Hanna I love her, and that we're coming for her.*  
  
It suddenly occurred to her that Hanna and Luke might not need their help at all. She was sure that if there was a battle, and one side consisted of only Hanna and Luke and the other just of herself and Han, the other two would win in no time. Still, she couldn't sit by and do nothing. Luke was her other half, Hanna her own flesh and blood.   
  
The first time Hanna's life had been threatened, she had only been a rambunctious four-year-old. Leia had been giving a speech in the Imperial Square on Coruscant. Imperial loyalists opened fire on the stage. While she ducked, Luke had picked the child up and wrapped her in his robes, running with break-neck Jedi speed to safety. Leia hadn't been able to sleep that night, and Luke had comforted her, rubbing the knots out of her back. Her whole being had been shaking. Part of her, all that night, had wanted to call Han and tell him what happened. But she couldn't have if she had let herself. She hadn't known where he was.  
  
"I wasn't tryin' to joke with you," Han explained. "Or rile you, or make you angry, or anythin'. I was trying to get you to lighten up. Clam down a little."  
  
"Calm down? My daughter could be dead--"  
  
"Our daughter." He broke in loudly, then softened once again. "She's our daughter, Leia."  
  
Leia just stared back at him, into his eyes. They looked into each other's eyes for a long, difficult moment. When Leia had recognized the pain in them all of those years ago, she hadn't noticed it as being this deep. Pain stabbed through her heart. She'd never wanted to hurt him. She had just been doing what was right...  
  
"Hey, look..." he began, as uncomfortable as she was. "We been up most the night, and we got about twelve hours to the Dufilvan Sector. Why don't you get some sleep?"  
  
She nodded tiredly. "What about you?"  
  
He shrugged. "I'll sleep when you're done. You don't wanna sleep in the same room as me, and I don't blame you."  
  
Leia was about to argue with him, but he was offering this to her, and he might as well take it. Sleeping in the same room would be awkward. She rose to find her way to the sleeping quarters, but Han reached out and took her hand.  
  
"Hold on," he pleaded softly. "You said that there was no point to talking about it. I wanna talk about it anyway."  
  
His touch made her tingle with uneasiness. "Why?"  
  
"'Cause I've had somethin' knockin' around in my head for nineteen years that I can't get to shut up. I gotta know somethin.'"  
  
Leia swallowed and drew her hand away. "What?"  
  
"I gotta know...when you sent me away..."  
  
She nodded.  
  
"It was 'cause of Hanna."  
  
She nodded again.  
  
"It wasn't 'cause..." he couldn't finish. The word 'love' had been hard for him to use even in his most passionate moments with Leia, not because he did not mean it, but because he was unaccustomed to using it. It was cumbersome and so often misused-he needed it to mean something. "Did you love me?"  
  
Leia looked away. It was more difficult for her to answer than it had been for him to ask. "You know I did, Han."  
  
With that, she drew away, not looking back. She slept in a bed chosen at random, and the pillow smelled like Luke's sweet, dusty smell. She had always been one to fall victim to insomnia, but tonight she was so exhausted that sleep lost no time in overtaking her, and she dreamed of the Revolution, of a night she had slept in a tent in the snow-covered woods of an uninhabited planet that the Alliance had been considering for a base. By midnight the temperature had dropped to forty below, and she, Luke and Han had slept huddled together to keep warm. She had wondered at the time what the rest of the Alderaanean Court would have thought, but in the morning it was wonderful to wake up in both their arms, her two best friends in the universe, Luke smelling like the desert and Han like spice. Han had told Leia she smelled like an orchard, and Luke had agreed-like the nut trees outside her window on Alderaan. Funny, how those smells never had managed to wash out of their hair... 


	13. World of Crystals

Chapter Thirteen  
  
When Leia woke up, she found a plate of food by her bedside. It was still hot. She frowned, wondering what was it that had made Han cook for her. But he had always liked to cook, so she shook it away and looked at the crono on the wall.  
  
Damnit, Han!  
  
Seeing that eleven of the twelve hours of their jump had passed, she got out of bed and pulled her jacket on over her undershirt, leaving her boots on the floor. She stood in the doorway and shouted for him.  
  
He leaned out of the galley. "What d'you want? You know, you don't have to scream so loud. This ship ain't that big."  
  
"You let me sleep for eleven hours?"  
  
He shrugged. "Actually, it's more like ten-and-a-half."  
  
She hated him, and his casual indifference. "Han, because you didn't get any sleep, it's going to take us that much longer to find Hanna and Luke. If you're too tired--"  
  
"Hey, settle down, sweetheart. I slept in the lounge. I only got four hours, but I'm okay. I didn't want to wake you up, and I didn't want you to have to wake up with me across from you."  
  
Leia sighed and ran her fingers through her lose hair. She didn't bother putting it up. She was jumping at nothing. She was so suspicious of Han's intentions, so edgy being on a ship with just him, so scared of what may be happening to her family that she was questioning his every word and move.  
  
"I'm sorry," she breathed.  
  
"What?"  
  
She took a deep breath. She didn't like apologizing. "I'm sorry I overreacted. I'm just...stressed."  
  
Han nodded. "I know how you get. That's why I let you sleep. Eat your food, all right?"  
  
With that, he ducked back into the galley.  
  
******************  
  
Leia's head was clearer when they dropped out of hyperspace. She was wide awake now, and she had had a meal. Han was still closed up inside of himself, the way he had been all yesterday as they worked on the ship. Leia found it upsetting. She felt like she was being accused of something, and punished for it, without knowing what it was. She knew that wasn't it, but it was unnerving, nonetheless.  
  
The blue and gray cloudy lightning of hyperspace drew out into streaks, and finally resolved themselves into stars. Han sat patiently as Leia meditated and reached hard for some faint trace of Hanna and Luke, Luke especially. She could usually feel some sort of connection with him, no matter where he was. He was always there, in some ethereal plane of her existence, as if he constantly had a hand on her shoulder. She had gotten used to it. It comforted her. But now...it was different. Like she was feeling the hand on her shoulder through a thick coat. She could usually reach out to Hanna, too, or at least have the vague sense that somewhere, she had a daughter, a Jedi daughter who was constantly seeping rays of light into the universe. The light was so dim now that she had trouble seeing it.  
  
She opened her eyes to find them blurry with unshed tears. "They're here somewhere. We came to the right sector, it's just...it's like I'm seeing them through smoke."  
  
Han sighed something that sounded somewhat like a Huttese curse, but Leia didn't understand Huttese very well. "Think...if we get any closer to them, you'd be able to tell better?"  
  
She shrugged. "Maybe. But the...cloudiness isn't caused by distance. It's like...like you felt when you were in carbonate. Like they're in some sort of hibernation state. How they feel when they sleep but don't dream."  
  
"And that makes 'em harder to find?"  
  
"I can't touch their minds when they have no thoughts or emotions. They're not sending anything...there's nothing to grab hold of."  
  
Han nodded. "Okay...let's do this the long way. Got any general ideas? Point in a direction, or something?"  
  
She meditated again for several minutes while Han sat patiently and waited. When she opened her eyes, she pointed hard to starboard and said, "There, somewhere."  
  
Han checked the starcharts. "That'd be Womrik or Klatooine."  
  
"Not much on either of those planets."  
  
"No...well, Klatooine's closer. About an hour jump away. Once we're there, think you'll know?"  
  
"I think I'll know if they're on planet or not."  
  
"Good enough for me, doll."  
  
***********  
  
Leia got Han to take a nap while they were in hyperspace. He wasn't young anymore, she had told him, and he had to stop acting like he was.  
  
That was a novel idea, Han thought. If that's what she had wanted, why did she let him go? Why hadn't she tried to tie him down?  
  
Without Leia he had lived the life of the twenty-eight-year-old smuggler she had met all those years ago. He wondered if Leia had ever realized the real reason he had quit smuggling. For the cause, certainly. He had hated the Empire almost as much as she did, because, even though he hated to admit it, he had a conscience. For the kid too. He had made it his personal responsibility to make sure Luke got enough flight and combat training in the old days to make it to twenty, and Han took partial credit that Luke was still alive now. But the biggest reason that he had never been able to go back to smuggling until Leia turned him away was Leia herself. He had never liked to admit it, especially back then, but she had stolen his heart from the get-go, and he wouldn't have been able to leave if he had tried.  
  
Han didn't sleep at all. He lay awake, thinking, eyes closed. He realized as soon as he lay down that he had chosen the bunk that Leia had slept on, but he was too tired to get up and move. That, and he liked the way Leia and Luke's smells combined on the pillow. But he didn't admit that to himself either.  
  
Her smell. It still made him crazy. And Luke's smell made him happy, the way that gawky teenage boy once had.  
  
When the ship's computer started beeping, he put his boots and jacket back on and hurried to the cockpit.  
  
Leia was already in a trance, searching for her brother's glowing Force-sense. Han had always wished he could feel it too, could share it with them, especially her. He wished that, even though he had never met his daughter, he could have some kind of connection with her, and know that she was safe all the time. He had thought about her very day since he left.  
  
He dropped the ship out of hyperspace and orbited the planet, waiting for Leia to give him a direction. Ten minutes later, without opening her eyes, Leia said softly, "Land."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"I'll tell you."  
  
Twenty minutes passed, and the Falcon orbited Klatooine.  
  
"Now. Land right under us."  
  
"Right under us?"  
  
She nodded, opening her eyes.  
  
All they could see from space was crystalline clouds, brilliant with ice and chemicals. Only the lower atmosphere did not posses this thick concentration of crystal toxins. At ground level, it was breathable. Han knew about the atmosphere, but he didn't know the number it could do on exposed parts of a ship.  
  
"Sith!" he shouted as he tried to maintain control of a freighter with no stabilizers. It was near impossible. He knew he'd be able to land her in one piece, but where? And with how much outer damage? A YT-1300 was not like the newer ships, with a "skin" over everything, smooth and chrome and aerodynamic. Han thought it was ridiculous--as if a ship needed to be aerodynamic in space.  
  
Neither of them spoke as the ship made its bumpy landing. They just held their breath and tightened their restraints.  
  
And they made it.  
  
They had cleared a nice path through the forest with their landing, but as far as Leia knew, there was no one to hide from on this planet, she explained. She only felt Luke, maybe Hanna and a few others.  
  
The forest was comprised of six-foot tall "trees" with white bark and sickly yellow leaves. If they had grown in her garden, Leia would have called them bushes, and given them special plant food to make them better.  
  
They had to crawl hands and knees to a clearing or the end of the forest that they could see through the trees, because the trees were too tall to see above, and too short to walk beneath without getting hit in the head.  
  
When they got to the end of the forest after half an hour of crawling, they took one another's hand. What they saw was too impossibly beautiful to be true.  
  
"My stars..." Leia breathed.  
  
"No kidding," Han agreed, squeezing her hand.  
  
The end of the forest was on top of a ridge. At the end of the forest, no grass or flowers or anything covered the ground except little twinkling ice and quartz crystals mixed with the dry soil. But the real quartz was out there, off the cliff. The ground was covered, down below, with the little trees as far as the eye could see, which was not very far, because a slightly shimmery mist floated and swirled everywhere. Here and there, huge crystals rose out of the forest below, flat on top and covered in trees. Some were taller than the ridge, some were only ten feet above the forest floor. Some were crystal-shaped, faseted. Others were eroded away to be thinner in the center, smooth, specks of crystal carried away by the wind over thousands of years.  
  
Neither of them said anything. The sun was setting in the direction they were looking, casting streams of light about the mist and through the crystals. Little rainbows danced in the air, coming and going. As they watched, the sunset turned purple through the chemicals in the clouds.  
  
Han turned to look at Leia at long last, really look at her. She was still staring at the landscape, looking as if she had just seen a miracle. Still holding her hand, Han leaned closer to her, breathing in her smell along with the thick vapors in the air. He nuzzled her lose hair, dropping little kisses on her head and neck. She stiffened momentarily, then relaxed. But she did not move.  
  
He took her in his arms and kissed all over her face, and finally her lips, she kissing him back. He couldn't think--he didn't think. He just kissed her.  
  
And a few minutes later, when they fell to the ground, he didn't feel the cold of the crystals. The whole universe could have come to an end at that point, and he wouldn't know or care. 


	14. Only One Thing to Do

Chapter 14  
  
Han was awoken by the dawn. He opened his eyes slowly to see the sickly-colored misty sky, the air damp with fog and the ground and rocks covered with tiny ice crystals. He nuzzled his cold face and damp hair into the sleeping bag where his and Leia's bodies had created enough heat to keep them warm all night. He was grateful to find her still asleep, pressed up to him. Their bodies hugged each other's curves, their fingers interlaced. Leia's hair was down and spread out everywhere. Han breathed her in deeply, trying to savor this moment, because he knew there was an argument coming as soon as she woke up. She was so soft, so warm, smelled so good...  
  
Even Han had doubted if kissing her had been a good idea. He'd wondered what kinds of repercussions last night would have, even as he made love to her. But it had seemed so perfect. They'd made love like they used to, as if no time at all had passed. Their bodies still knew one another's, though their hearts and minds were grasping for answers and finding none. Last night, throwing all caution aside, Han had whispered, "I love you," very softly into Leia's hair as they lay in the afterglow. Thankfully, he got no answer, as she was already asleep.  
  
Now, he watched her breathe. He wasn't hoping for anything from her, as he himself did not know what to hope for. He knew what he wanted, but he did not know what would work out.  
  
Oh, but Leia...laying there...chestnut-colored, chestnut-blossom-smelling hair spread everywhere...no longer the round-faced girl he had loved but a woman with a grown round-faced daughter of her own...she looked more beautiful than ever...  
  
Leia had always been the only real one for him, since he'd heard her say, "Into the garbage shoot, fly-boy!"  
  
He smiled at the memory and kissed her softly. She didn't open her eyes, but she smiled slightly and lay her head on his chest.  
  
Just as he was about to wake her up--they had to get moving--she gasped and opened her eyes. They were distant, as if she were seeing somewhere else. "Han..."  
  
This had to be one of those Jedi things. "What is it, babe?"  
  
She closed her eyes, feeling, searching... "Hanna and Luke...I can feel them again..."  
  
"All of a sudden?"  
  
She nodded. "They're awake...they're all right. Luke..." she whispered, reaching for her brother. "He's confused...weak...but he's not in any danger."  
  
"What about Hanna?"  
  
"I can't...not from this far away." She got out of their sleeping bag and began to dress hurriedly, to distracted to be modest. But Han had seen her naked many times before. He took the hint and, trying not to stare at her, found his pants and pulled them on.  
  
The sun was rising. The air was luminous with misty dawn and twinkling ice crystals. The light made the quartz columns glow, more beautiful than the night before. Han watched it as he rolled up their sleeping bag. "Gorgeous, huh?"  
  
Leia smiled, putting a pack brought from the Falcon on her back. "I thought we'd found that out last night."  
  
Han flashed her a sexy smile. Then, out of genuine curiosity, asked, "How d'you think a place would get like this?"  
  
She shrugged. "Must have been very seismically unsound until a few tens of thousands of years ago."  
  
"I guess so." He watched her face in the light and wondered if they'd still be in bed if it were a better time. "Hey, sweetheart..."  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
He was about to tell her how beautiful she looked with her hair down and messy, damp, but instead he asked, "Uh...which way are they?"  
  
She pointed about ten kilometers away, at the forest floor.  
  
"I don't see any--"  
  
"They're there. I know they are."  
  
"Okay. Fine. But...how do we get down?"  
  
Leia kicked a pebble of the side of the ridge. "We could fix the Falcon." Under her breath, she added, "Again."  
  
"Yeah...maybe. But I don't even know if the air's safe for her even down here. Anyway, it'd be faster to walk if..." he looked down the side of the ridge and winced. "Guess there's only one thing to do. Why don't you go look for a way down and I'll go work on the Falcon."  
  
She nodded. "Sounds good."  
  
She was about to start off, but Han wouldn't let her go without talking about last night, or at least her giving him some kind of sign that everything was going to be all right. The thought of her scouting around the edge of a sheer cliff face this high up made him wary, too. He took her hand tenderly. "Be careful," he warned, and drew towards her to kiss her lips...  
  
She backed away. "No. Don't."   
He let go of her hand. "Why not? Are you going to tell me that--"  
  
"Han we should have known--"  
  
He drew away in anger, picked up their things to take them back to the Falcon. "Damnit, Leia! Don't give me one of those 'we should have known better' talks! We did know better, we did it anyway, and we should be grown up enough to deal with it now. Besides," he calmed himself down, looking deeply into her eyes, "You liked it."  
  
Without another word, he started back towards the Falcon. Leia didn't answer. She didn't know what to say.  
  
*****************  
  
Luke woke up in a huge, old-fashioned, four-posted bed with curtains of crimson brocade. They looked like something the Emperor would have decorated his mistress' bedrooms with. The thought made Luke nauseous, so he pushed it away.  
  
Now, where the hell...  
  
He tried to sit up and found all of his mussels stiff and tired. His brain was foggy. He knew that feeling. On a few of the occasions that Luke had been injured badly, he'd been put on strong pain killer / sedative drugs which left him feeling like this if he was out long enough. He wished he knew how long this time.  
  
He felt Leia near by. She was sleepy and concerned, and she reached out to him anxiously. He drowsily assured her that he was all right for the moment, and made sure that she was far enough away to be out of any danger that he might be in. She was.  
  
Hanna...she was next door, in much the same state he.  
  
He pulled back the enormous down comforter and the crimson silk sheets. All of this finery would make him feel silly if he wasn't so concerned about finding out what was going on. He was grateful to discover he was in his own undertunic and pants, his robes folded in a corner of the bed (his lightsaber no longer attached to his belt, of course), and not in some gaudy red silk pajamas to match the decor.  
  
Though the all white undertunic and tight pants made him feel like a farm boy, he didn't bother with all of the black robes. He just pulled on his black boots, buckled them, and opened the curtains.  
  
A large, warm, old-fashioned bedroom and lounge greeted him. Everything was of red cloth or black marble. Across the room was an immense black marble fireplace with red couches facing it. A low table was set for one, covered in expensive, gormett cheese, fruit, breads, cakes, fish, wine, and other, stronger drinks.  
  
Luke was starving. He couldn't tell how long he'd been asleep, and even when he'd been--what? captured?--he'd been starving. But there was not way he'd trust that food--  
  
Still, if they'd wanted to kill him, he'd been sedated and in their possession for hours or days. They'd had plenty of time to do what they liked with him. They'd even undressed him and put him to bed. Actually, they'd been very good to him...  
  
Which made Luke very suspicious.  
  
But as long a he left the alcohol alone, eating the food would probably be all right.  
  
He went stiffly over to the table and grabbed an Orkiiese pear--oblong, not too sweet, white skin and indigo meat--and inspected the room as he ate. There didn't seem to be any surveillance devices, but that didn't mean they wern't there. But Luke could usually feel it when someone was observing him. Even if there were security cameras or microphones, no one was watching.  
  
The door to the room was a huge black marble slab that looked as if it slid aside to let people in and out. There were not controls on his side of the door. No latch or knob or buttons or wires or anything.  
  
Only one thing to do, then.  
  
He tried to push the door aside with the Force, but something was keeping it from moving. He reached for the controls on the other side of the door and found none there, either.  
  
Then where?  
  
Sith.  
  
No windows. Despite the comfortable warmth and glow of the room. Luke knew he was underground.  
  
He finished the pear and went back to the low table to get some bread and cheese. The pear seemed to be having no ill effects on his system, which meant the rest was probably safe.  
  
After he'd eaten--not too much; he did not want to take advantage of the hospitality of someone who had knocked him out in order to bring him here--he reached out to Hanna again. She was confused, but comfortable. He warned her not to get too comfortable, and to drink only water.  
  
Just then, the door opened, though Luke knew not how. In stepped a tall man, ten years or so younger than Luke, dressed in fine clothes of dark blue and green taffeta. A black cape flew behind him as he walked.  
  
He smiled at Luke, and, though ominous looking, did not strike Luke as a direct threat to him. He actually came across as rather friendly. "Ah, General Skywalker. You're awake. I trust you are enjoying your stay?"  
  
Luke was wary. "I was until I opened my eyes. Your decorator should be shot." It was something Hanna would say, and Luke felt sometimes that her cocky sense of humor gave her power that he did not have. "It looks like the Imperial Palace before we remolded."  
  
The man's grin turned colder, like one not accustomed to being insulted. "Yes. We actually have some of the decorators that worked on the Palace."  
  
Luke raised an eyebrow. "I see. And...who are you?" he asked dryly.  
  
The man sat on a couch opposite Luke. "I'm just a friendly gentleman with a business proposition for you."  
  
"Right...then why kidnap me?"  
  
"An...employee of mine felt that you would be more likely to listen if you, well, had no choice."  
  
"An employee?"  
  
A deeper voice came from the half-open doorway. "Luke--"  
  
Luke rose to his feet when he saw the young man enter the room. "Max..."  
  
He was...all grown up, as Luke was surprised to discover. Taller than when he left, shaggy dark hair. He definitely looked Corillian. "Luke, I'm sorry we had to do it this way. You wouldn't of listened otherwise."  
  
Luke, dwarfed between the two bigger men, sat down again. He didn't feel endangered, but there was definitely something very strange going on here. 


	15. Making Sence of It All

Chapter 15  
  
The young man in the taffeta clothes offered to leave Luke and Max alone to speak, and without waiting for an answer, left the room. Luke watched him carefully as he left, and noticed that the marble door opened for him without his doing anything to move or activate it. He'd have to figure that one out.  
  
He turned back to look at Max, the boy who had one idolized him, loved him even. He seemed healthy. He had color in his complexion and his dark eyes were unchanged. Luke had half expected to find the pupils ringed in gold as the Siths'. Max had a heavier build than he'd had as an adolescent. He looked strong and capable. Most of Luke's fears were put to rest by the fact that his body showed none of the signs of a Force adapt using the dark side.  
  
He was dressed in expensive, simple clothes--a red wool jacket, a black tunic, black pants, high leather boots. They looked like the designer versions of what most people wore, the sort of thing that says, "I'm just like you but better." But Max didn't wear them that way. He looked like they were just his clothes, and he didn't think much of it.  
  
Luke sensed a sort of sadness about him, as if he was missing something. But his demeanor was simply calm and unpretentious.  
  
Luke looked him over only for a few seconds, and then said. "What's going on here, Max? Why did you bring me here?"  
  
Max didn't seem to want to answer, perhaps because something was making him uncomfortable. He sat down and smiled nervously at Luke, avoiding his questions. "I'm taller than you now."  
  
Luke regarded him with a straight face. "Did you bug Hanna's X-wing?"  
  
His eyes darted away. After struggling for words, he said, "Yes."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"To draw you here." He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. Luke felt his anxiousness. "Damnit, Luke! You're smart--figure it out!"  
  
Luke didn't take his eyes from Max's for a moment--it helped him read people. But Max wouldn't look at him. "You could have killed her. She was once your best friend, and I know that you don't want to kill her--"  
  
"No! You don't get it! The virus was set to kick in at a certain time, and I knew that you wouldn't leave until the day you did. It wasn't supposed to kill her."  
  
"What if we'd left early?"  
  
"I would have made sure somehow that you wouldn't. It was supposed to look like someone was trying to kill Hanna, so that I'd get your attention. I didn't want to kill her."  
  
Luke let the silence linger as he processed what Max said for deception. He found none. Max was being straight with him. "What about the Sith coat of arms?"  
  
Max laughed tensely. "That was to peak your interest. I knew it would. I also just wanted you to know it was me." He looked himself over. "I'm not exactly a Sith."  
  
"I'd say not. I feel no darkness in you. But you're not happy."   
  
Max pursed his lips.  
  
"Why am I here, Max?"  
  
He finally looked Luke in the eye. "It's like he said. He's got a business proposition for you."  
  
Luke stared at him blankly.  
  
"I'll try to explain. You're in one of the hidden headquarters of LUX."  
  
"The crime organization?"  
  
Max's Force sense wavered. "They're not criminals, Luke."  
  
"They're worse than the Hutts, Max. How can you say--"  
  
"No, Luke. They are not worse than the Hutts. All they want is comfort and prosperity. They aren't out for their own personal power--"  
  
"And in some ways, I think killing for money and possessions is worse than killing for power." He regarded Max again, thinking of the stubborn little boy his one-time student had been. "But then, you never cared what I thought."  
  
Max clenched his teeth. "They took me in when I left you, Luke. I had nowhere else to go."  
  
"You didn't have to leave. We could have worked it out, learned from one another."  
  
He shook his head. "No. I was never meant to be a Jedi."  
  
"You are a Jedi, Max. I feel it. You haven't left behind what I taught you. You still use it, don't you?"  
  
He nodded hesitantly. "It's my end of the bargain. I use my abilities to help them get what they want, and they give me anything and everything I want. It's a good life."  
  
Luke didn't think he sounded so sure. "But you're an indentured servant. You can't leave."  
  
Fire leapt into Max's eyes. "I can leave whenever I want! But why should I? I have everything here--good food, nice clothes, a great apartment, girls..." He trailed off in thought. "Luke," he asked at last, "Did it work out with Laureth?"  
  
Luke flinched at the mention of her name. "She...no. No, it didn't." He couldn't being himself to tell the whole story again, as he had to Han around a week ago. It was too draining. He finished his first sentence silently in his head. *She died.*  
  
"And there isn't anyone else?"  
  
Luke frowned, suspicious of what Max might be getting at. "No."  
  
Max half-smiled and spoke lowly. "How long has it been since you got laid?"  
  
He recoiled from the question as if it was absurd, though sometimes his body trembled with the knowledge of just how long it had been. He ached to be touched, to hold someone at night again. But he would not bear his soul. He pushed it all away and just said, "Why?"  
  
Max leaned in closer and said, "We have all kinds of girls here. They're all young and beautiful. I could have one sent to your room..."  
  
He pulled away, flushed with embarrassment and outrage at the suggestion. He was being baited, and Max knew just where he was vulnerable right now. "No."  
  
"Why the hell not, Luke? You're our guest! Have some fun."  
  
"Max, I'm still not sure exactly why I'm your guest. Besides..."  
  
"Let me guess? You're going to ramble on about how it's impersonal and immoral to have sex without being in love." Max laughed bitterly. "Sith, Luke! You're still a shy purist after all these years?" He stood and walked towards the door. "I'll just send one in. You don't have to use her, but you really look like you could use some release."  
  
Luke jumped to his feet, determined to be heard. He didn't care about any girl, or about any bait Max might give him. He just wanted to know what he was doing here. But Max left the room and that impossible black door shut behind him.  
  
Luke stood for a moment, and suddenly wondered what Max's girl would look like. He tried to push it back into his subconscious again, but it refused. He thought of Laureth's gray eyes and freckles, the soft curves of her body, remembered the feeling of their bodies hugging each other's as they slept. There had been many other women over the long years, but none Luke remembered so well as Laureth. He always would remember her.  
  
Seized with a sudden longing and loneliness, Luke sat on the vast bed and closed his eyes, took deep breaths. He cooled his emotions, his temper, his hormones. He would not lay a hand on the girl. He would simply ask her questions, find out why he was here.  
  
And how he could get himself and Hanna out.  
  
**************  
  
Hana was anxious, bored, and claustrophobic.  
  
She sat on the couch in her blue and gold room, taking deep breaths with her eyes closed. She didn't like being underground. Especially if she couldn't use the door. The room was huge, but she could tell that she had many meters of dirt between herself and open air.  
  
What if the ceiling gave out?  
  
She bit her lip and willed the anxiety away. It was a completely irrational fear. Besides, she wasn't afraid of being in an X-wing in hyperspace. She should be okay with basements.  
  
Hanna looked at the little table next to her. She had already eaten all of the good cheese and the two types of citrus fruit, and that was all she really wanted. Like her mother, she was picky about food. There was a small bottle of burgundy wine older than Hanna sitting on the table among the other small bottles of drinks, a kind that she remembered having once at a party, and she really wanted to have just one glass of it to calm herself down. But Luke had said no. She wasn't in the habit of taking orders from parents, as Luke and Mom had not been in the habit of giving them. But when Luke gave orders, they were from a master to a student. It was very practical advice that she needed to follow to live to become a knight.  
  
She felt Luke become flustered, upset, and sprang to her feet. But it subsided, and she calmed down. The other she had sensed in his room left him. For a moment, she felt him retreat down the hall. Then his aura flickered, and he came back. There was a knock at Hanna's door.  
  
A lump formed in her throat. She dove to retrieve her tunic from the bed so as not to great whomever it might be in a not-so-modest undershirt. When it was on, she stood facing the door, and it opened.  
  
Well, son of a Sith.  
  
"Max?" She asked, not really recognizing him, but knowing it was he just the same. Memories of a sweet, rebellious boy came back to her, the boy who would chase her around the garden in the summer time, the boy who had kissed her on the cheek before he left.  
  
He smiled sheepishly. She smiled back. He came into the room, the door sliding shut behind him. As she looked him over, she forgot the bug in her X-wing and the capture, and whatever might be happening to Luke. She was just happy to see him. He'd been so close to her once.  
  
"Hana..." he murmured, walking around her, sizing her up. He laughed. "I guess I expected you to still look like a kid. Well, I didn't expect you to look nine anymore, but...you're not a kid at all."  
  
She blushed. "Neither are you."  
  
"When did you cut all of your hair off?"  
  
"Two years ago. Mom nearly died--she was so upset."  
  
"That's Leia for you."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Looks good short."  
  
She smiled and was too shy to answer.  
  
Max took her hand timidly. "I hope you enjoy your stay here, Hana. I know I will."  
  
**************  
  
Leia had walked around the near ridge three times and she still found nothing.  
  
Tired, she finally gave up and crawled in her hands and knees under the trees to the Falcon. Han was up somewhere on top, and as a Sender was emanating mild frustration.  
  
"Need help?" called Leia.  
  
Han appeared over the edge a moment later. "No luck?"  
  
She shook her head. "No. All the ridge is a sheer drop. It has to be made of the crystal stuff, like those things out there."  
  
"We could try goin' the other way, back into the forest, and findin' another way down."  
  
She thought about it, then shook her head again. "No...we'd get lost, and there isn't going to be a way down anywhere. It's all going to be the same."  
  
Han nodded thoughtfully. "Well, c'mon up here, then."  
  
Leia went inside and took the tube lift to the top hatch. When she found the little pit where Han was working she crouched down beside him. "How's progress?"  
  
He grunted. "Slow. I ain't ever coming here again. Those clouds up there are a bitch--they crystallized themselves and decided to live in the nooks and crannies of my ship."  
  
Leia winced. "Sorry."  
  
"Yeah, well, the sooner we get her all clean, the sooner we can rescue Luke and...our kid."  
  
He kept working, and Leia sat in thought a moment. That was the first time he'd called Hanna theirs not out of accusation for Leia's attempt at sole possession. Just "ours," as if "ours" wasn't a frightening thing, as if it was something he could get used to. Maybe she could, too.  
  
She lay a hand on his shoulder. He stopped his cleaning abruptly and looked her in the eye, not romantically, just longingly.  
  
Leia hugged him tightly, and he returned it. For a few long minutes, everything was still around them as they held one another. No wind blew, no sound was to be heard. When Han at last drew away, slowly, he whispered, "Can I call a truce?"  
  
Leia smiled. "If you don't, I will. We can't change what happened when I found out about Hanna, but that's no reason we have to fight for the rest of our lives."  
  
Han nodded. "I guess...I was still mad for what you did. But maybe we can get along again, huh?"  
  
Leia ruffled his hair. "We never got along, Han."  
  
He gave her one of those smiles. "No kiddin'. But I'd like to be friends, if you can stand it."  
  
Leia finally, for the first time since she got morning sickness nineteen years ago, felt at peace. "I think I can." 


	16. Changes

Chapter Sixteen  
  
Han was actually being civil.  
  
Leia helped him clean the nooks and crannies of the Falcon's hull and outer components and put protective sheets of metal and plastisteal over them. He usually worked in silence, and Leia wondered if he was thinking or just didn't have anything to say. It was not an uncomfortable silence-in fact, it was the most comfortable silence Leia could remember. Perhaps this was how it was meant to be all along, she found herself thinking. Perhaps we were never meant to be lovers. Just friends.  
  
But still, he was the most handsome man she'd ever known. She tried so hard not to think about last night, but when he looked at her softly with those hazel eyes, the brown on the outside and green towards the center, so beautiful, so strong, so quiet these days...she hurt. He would always attract her, always be charming, handsome, irresistible in part of her mind. But finally she felt as if she could think things over with no pressure, with a clear head, and with heed to the future.  
  
Hanna would want her father around now, Leia knew. And she also knew that Han wasn't about to give up the bond that he was forming with his daughter. She doubted that they would ever accept one another as father and daughter, but their fondness for each other was unmistakable. If Han wanted to be part of their family when they returned to Coruscant, she would not deny him that.  
  
She was a little unsure why she had denied him that in the first place. Over the years, it had seemed more and more apparent to Leia that her decision to refuse Han his impending fatherhood was much more about herself than about the baby. She was afraid of what a life with Han Solo would be like. She was so afraid that he would reject her or their child, or that try as he might he would not be able to settle down and lead the life of a father and husband-if he ever bothered to ask her to marry him, which she doubted he would have. She thought Luke would have ended up raising the baby more than Han anyway, and she didn't want to risk any kind of grief or falling out between any of the three of them-especially in front of Hanna. It would have been to difficult for all of them. It was better this way.  
  
She supposed.  
  
But when he smiled at her now, she wanted to smile back...and did. He was very charming, she gave him that. And she found the change in his character since way back when charming in a different way. The way he used to be when he was actually being sincere, the way he would meet her eyes and make her melt-he was like that all the time now. All last night, as they slowly remembered how to touch each other, how to kiss the way they used to, how to lay so they fit together perfectly, he acted that way. His eyes could be so intense when he was in that mood. They made Leia's heart skip a beat. They worked all day, pausing for food occasionally. Han didn't show any sign of being upset or angry or even longing, the way he had the whole time they'd been alone on the ride over. He was telling funny stories and making promises that he would take Hanna to Kassyyyack for Life Day with him. It was a good sign. Leia was more than satisfied.  
  
That night as Han lay asleep on the bunk opposite her, Leia felt a strange stirring in the Force. She sat up, unable to sleep. She reached out in all directions, unable to find where the feeling was coming from. Finally, she brushed it off as just her imagination and drifted off.  
  
*************  
  
Hanna Organa, would-be heir to the royal house of Alderaan, almost-Jedi Knight, and adorable kid extraordinaire was having the time of her life.  
  
Max opened the little bottle of wine she'd been eyeing an poured them each a glass, talking the whole time about how he couldn't get over how beautiful she'd become, how grown up. She looked like her mother, he said, but had kept Luke's youthful eyes. "They look better on you than him, though," Max said, winking.  
  
Hanna could lay on the charm, too, and she did. There was nothing wrong with flirting, she kept reminding herself. However, the fact that she had to keep on reminding herself made her a little suspicious that somewhere deep down, she thought there was something wrong with it. It was probably Luke's influence. She loved Luke so much, and admired him incredibly, but she thought he was often much too uptight about things that one had no reason to be uptight about.  
  
It was on the tip of Hanna's tongue to ask what she was doing here every time she said something, but it never came out. Max had the darkest eyes. She was lost in them. Before she knew it, she and Max had finished the small bottle and were in each other's arms, kissing passionately. It was against Hanna's better judgement, but it didn't matter. Besides, her Solo side told her she had no better judgement, and to just kiss the boy. She was not naive when it came to love. She'd had boyfriends, and even lovers, but nothing had been serious or lasting. She was not a shy virgin, and she was more than old enough to make her own decisions.  
  
But he was a little old for her. She knew Han was ten years older than Mom, but when you're nineteen, five years makes a huge difference.  
  
She broke away. Max kept holding her. "What's wrong?" he asked.  
  
"We shouldn't do this."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because...am I your prisoner, Max?"  
  
Max understood that drawing away would help his case. "No. Just Luke. And only until he calms down."  
  
"Then what am I doing here?"  
  
"It wasn't my idea. And you don't have to stay in your room, Hanna. Force knows you and your uncle are so used to seeing the universe suspiciously that you don't know how to enjoy things. You're our guest. You can do whatever you want. Name it. Anything you want to do, to see, to have. I'll give it to you."  
  
She bit her lip. "Anything?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"So that you'll see what you'll be missing if you choose to leave."  
  
She thought about it for a moment. She was used to having nearly all of the material possessions she asked for, because of her mother's title and inheritance. But she rarely asked for anything. As long as she had nice clothes, enough food, her X-wing, and a little spending money to go out with friends, she really didn't ask for anything.  
  
"Why don't you show me around?"  
  
Max hesitated. "I don't know if...well, all right."  
  
*************************  
  
After calming himself, Luke stretched out on the bed, thinking. Always prone to long and frequent spells of daydreaming as a boy, he had never been able to stop entirely. As a boy, the daydreams had been about future events and adventure, fantastic and improbable more often than not. Now that he'd had his fantastic and improbable adventures, his daydreams consisted of nice, quiet things. He daydreamed about the past mostly. About his life as a boy, about the fun he and Leia'd had when they'd first known each other, and mostly about Laureth.  
  
He closed his eyes and let his thoughts run by themselves.  
  
It was spring on Courscant. It was unusually sunny, which was always good for the mood of a desert boy. It was late morning, probably getting on to noon, and he and Laureth were still in bed. Leia and Hanna were off planet, so they could really stay in bed all they wanted.  
  
She was still asleep, her red-sand colored hair loose and spread out across the pillow. Luke kissed her cheek but didn't move-this was too perfect. He didn't want to move. She was too soft and he was too warm and comfortable. He didn't want to move.  
  
Luke winced as his wake-up alarm went off. Laureth was up like a shot to turn it off, then sat up in bed and brushed her hair away from her face, smiling sleepily at Luke. "Why did you setthe alarm?" he groaned.  
  
"I have to work at noon."  
  
"You thought we wouldn't be up in time?"  
  
"We weren't."  
  
Luke laughed tiredly and pulled her back into the bed, kissing her. "I'm going to be late," she protested.  
  
"You think I care?" he asked, determined to make her call in sick or something. It wasn't like him to act this way, but Laureth brought out something in him that he'd never noticed before and he loved-indifference, selfishness. When he was with Laureth the whole universe could implode and he wouldn't care in the slightest. He supposed it wasn't healthy, and even if it was, it wasn't good for his reputation. But he'd spent his entire life making others safe and cared for and free-shouldn't he get just a little of that for himself?  
  
And shouldn't he get a family of his own?  
  
"Laureth?"  
  
She nuzzled her head into his chest. "Hmm?"  
  
"Do you want kids?"  
  
She smiled suspiciously. "With you? Or at all?"  
  
Luke blushed. "At all."  
  
She nodded.  
  
Luke took a deep breath. "Okay, then...with me?"  
  
She was taken aback, her pale gray eyes surprised-they always gave away what she was feeling, even if nothing else did. "What are you asking me?"  
  
"If this is as serious as I hope it is."  
  
"How serious do you hope it is?"  
  
He tried to keep a ridiculously strait face. "Very serious."  
  
She laughed, making him laugh. He kissed her softly, calming her. "I mean it. I want this to be it. I think it is."  
  
She smiled softly. "So do I."  
  
Luke refused to cry. He hadn't cried over Laureth in seven years. He would not do it now. Most of his daydreams were memory, slightly altered with gaps filled in. A week after he'd proposed to Laureth, she went home to visit her family to tell them that she and Luke were getting married soon and trying to have a baby, but she'd never made it. Her ship crashed on the way to Corrillia.  
  
Luke hated himself for not going with her. He could have saved her, or if not, he could have at least done his best. He hadn't even been there when she died. If he hadn't felt her death in the Force, he wouldn't have known until at least a few hours later.  
  
It was because of Laureth that things hadn't worked out with other women. They'd been so close, so ready to begin their lives together, that Luke couldn't go into other relationships without bringing a ton of emotional baggage.  
  
He hit a pillow in frustration, but then pushed the anger completely away. He didn't need to be angry with himself. None of it was his fault.  
  
He was just about to get up and inspect the door again when it opened.  
  
A very pale pink Twi'lek entered, almost wearing an indigo silk skirt and top, head-tails crowned in silver set with blue stones, bare feet, carrying a silver tray with spice jars and little bottles of massage oil. She smiled politely and bowed, much more like a slave than a prostitute. Luke eyed her with suspicion. "General," she greeted him. "I am Tirha. At your service...completely."  
  
Luke swallowed a lump in his throat that he pretended was not there. He rose, regarded her coldly. "Your services are not required. Thank you."  
  
He turned away from her, towards the great fire that had begun to die down. He took the poker from the hearth and shifted the logs, partly because he didn't want to be cold without a fire and but mostly to distract himself. The woman was small-of a height perfect for Luke. Her skin was a tone he'd never seen before, and he was intrigued. Most of all, despite the dancer- like, longed limbed bodies of most Twi'leks, Tirha was round in all of the right places, her curves full and supple. Luke was good at controlling his urges, and always had been. But he couldn't pretend they weren't there.  
  
But she was so young. She couldn't be any older than...by human standards...twenty-five.  
  
Luke saw her step towards him out of the corner of his eye. She walked like a slave, as if on eggshells. He shuddered inwardly.  
  
"If you please, General-"  
  
"It's just Luke," he informed her, an edge to his voice.  
  
"Forgive me," she did a little bow. "Luke. If you please, if you do not require my services of one kind, I am well versed in many arts. I can dance for you, or massage you, or just give you company if you prefer. Anything at all. I am here to please."  
  
Luke wondered for a fleeting second if she was a droid, the kind designed to seem human and used for pleasure practices of all kinds. She did sound a little like Threepio with her list of functions. But her Force-sense was distinctly alive and actually quite intelligent. Her basic was perfect, another surprise. Luke tried not to subscribe to stereotypes, but it was his misconception that all Twi'leks spoke either Huttese or their own language, and not more than a few words of Basic. He was glad she had spoken first, otherwise he might have spoken to her in Huttese and perhaps offended her.  
  
Frankly, he thought to himself, I could use some company. And maybe she can help me out. He turned to face her again, but only looked at her black eyes. "Tirha, right?"  
  
She nodded once.  
  
Luke smiled warmly. The cold, detached Jedi Master bit was just a defense mechanism, something he used when he was not completely at ease with himself and his surroundings. He could probably let his guard down with her, and perhaps get her to drop the slave-girl defense mechanism. "Come sit by the fire. You can't possibly be warm in..." Don't offend her, Luke. "It's cold in here."  
  
Tirha smiled uncertainly, unused to hospitality form her masters. She looked for somewhere to set the tray down, and Luke took it from her hands to save her the trouble. He set in on the hearth, glancing quickly across the assortment of illegal substances it held. Han would have fun here, that was for sure.  
  
The girl sat beside Luke on the hearth, and he could sense her relief at not having to put on any fronts.  
  
He asked her a lot of questions about herself and how she lived. For the past five years, she said, she'd traveled with LUX across the galaxy, going on cruses and living ion the different palaces. Luke asked her if she was a slave, and she wouldn't answer. Luke decided she was. She was from Coruscant and was raised by a mostly-human society, which explained her speech and mannerisms. "Why did you grow up among humans?" he asked.  
  
"Because my father's human. He was married to a human before my mother, and he had three children with her, so most of my family's human."  
  
"You're only half Twi'lek? I didn't know that was possible." But it explained the shortness of her head-tails, the strange color of her skin, and her almost-human shaped body. Luke liked that. It made her unique. And besides being a Twi'lek color, her eyes seemed very human as well.  
  
"It is, and it isn't as rare as you'd think. Many human men find Twi'lek women attractive."  
  
You can say that again, Luke thought.  
  
"It couldn't have been easy for you, growing up."  
  
She shook her head. "No. Especially with the Emperor's segregation policies. I couldn't go to school with my brother and sisters anymore, because they went to a human school, and I had to go to a school for 'aliens'." She spoke the word distastefully. "I hate that word. It doesn't mean anything. Humans don't even have a home world anymore-they don't even know where it was. So isn't it humans who are the aliens?"  
  
Luke shrugged. "Like you said, it doesn't mean anything. There aren't any aliens, as far as I'm concerned. Only people."  
  
She smiled.  
  
Wait a minute...  
  
Luke did the math in his head, subtracted twenty-five years from his own years to discover that if his estimation of her age was correct, that she would have been born around when he left Tatooine, therefore making her only three at the fall of the Empire. But she'd used to go to school with her brother and sisters before the Empire enforced the segregation policies on Coruscant, the first world they did it to. That would mean she was at least...  
  
"How old are you, if you don't mind my asking?"  
  
She obviously didn't. "Forty-one."  
  
Luke blinked. One, two years younger than he? She couldn't be serious. "What?"  
  
"I'm half Twi'lek. I'll look young until I'm sixty or so, then suddenly age. I'm not looking forward to it." She smiled.  
  
Luke smiled back. She wasn't too young for him...  
  
Find out what you need to know and get out of there, he reminded himself. Focus.  
  
"How do the doors work?"  
  
"I have a microchip in my skin. We all do. They open automatically for us."  
  
Ah. So if he could convince the computer that he had one too.  
  
"Tirha...I need your help."  
  
She nodded.  
  
"I have to get out of here. Is there anyway you could bring me a floor plan-"  
  
She shook her head furiously and stood up. "Luke, don't ask me to do this, after you've been so nice. They'll kill both of us-"  
  
"No they won't."  
  
"Yes, they will. They have no tolerance for opposition. They'll keep you here as long as they can to try to convince you to help them but they won't hurt you unless you start fighting them. If you do, it's the end. Now, if you require my services no longer, I'll be going."  
  
She took the tray and left.  
  
Luke grabbed her arm gently before she stepped out the door. "Come back tomorrow," he asked softly, unsure of whether he wanted her to come again so he could convince her to help him, or just to be with her. 


	17. Deja Vu

Morning approached. Leia had found sleep for a short time, but as it became more and more evident that the almost ghostly stirring she had felt earlier was resolving itself into a presence, she could do nothing but look at the ceiling and worry.  
  
How could she be so stupid? How could she let this happen again? It was like a bad dream, the kind she'd had in the years after Han left. She'd always dwelled on the morning she'd sent him away, and it frustrated her to think that maybe there was a different answer, that maybe she could have said something else or...  
  
She kicked the bed clothes away and went to the lounge to sit and think. Though, as she meditated, reached, and thought, the frustration melted away. It was replaced by many feelings-guilt, hurt, wonder, shock, and happiness, too. Mostly, just awe.  
  
At dawn, Han came into the room with his hair a mess and his shirt off, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Leia smiled a little, absently-he was cute when he first woke up. The pit of her stomach ached a little in anticipation. He smiled, squinting in the bright lights. "What're you doin' up already, sweetheart?"  
  
She drew her knees to her chest and shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."  
  
He frowned. "What's the matter? Are Luke and Hanna-"  
  
"They're fine. It's...something else."  
  
He crossed his arms over his chest. "Wanna talk about it?"  
  
She nodded. It would only get harder if she put it off.  
  
"Kay. Let me just make some coffee-"  
  
"No. Now."  
  
"It's that important?"  
  
You bet it is. "Han, please..."  
  
"Okay, okay. What is it?"  
  
The words caught in her throat. She couldn't say them. "Sit down."  
  
He gave her one of his irresistible smiles. "Oh, that bad, is it?"  
  
"Han, don't joke with me. Not now."  
  
He sat, taken aback by her emotion. He took one of her hands tightly in a reassuring way. "What is it, baby?"  
  
"I..." She looked away. He gave her had a steady squeeze. "The other night, on the ridge."  
  
"Oh. Is that all? I thought we were past that-"  
  
"Han, it's not that."  
  
He swallowed, took his time speaking. "Then what is it?"  
  
"It...it feels the same as it did with Hanna."  
  
Han paled. "As...what did?"  
  
"Last night, when I went to sleep, I felt something. It's still there now, but it's grown. Its growing fast..."  
  
He was shocked as he slowly understood her meaning. "Leia?"  
  
She nodded. "I don't know what else it could be. I'm...I know I am...."  
  
She met his eyes deeply, and neither spoke. Finally, Han took her in his arms. At least she would always have his strength. "Don't send me away," he whispered.  
  
She didn't answer.  
  
"Are you sure that's what it is?" he asked.  
  
She nodded. She had a terrible sense of deja vu.  
  
"What are you going to do?"  
  
"I've done it before and I can do it again, Han. I'll be fine."  
  
"Yeah. I bet you will."  
  
He wasn't teasing, taunting. He really had faith in her, in her abilities, in her capabilities as a mother. Leia could hear it in his voice.  
  
"Besides," she added, "I never thought I would have any children besides Hanna. I'm glad I will."  
  
"Yeah. Well, maybe I did something right, then."  
  
She smiled, cuddling into his chest.  
  
He held Leia tightly, wondering where he would be in nine months, what Hanna and Luke and everyone else would think when they found out, and how the hell he would be able to get kicked out of another child's life and cope with it.  
  
"Don't send me away," he pleaded again.  
  
Leia looked up into his eyes, and knew he deserved no more pain. "I won't."  
  
*********************  
  
"Han, I'm pregnant, not ill," Leia protested as Han herded her to the bunks. After he had insisted that she eat a good breakfast, denied her coffee, and refused to let her help clean up-all on the pretext that anything else would have been bad for the baby-he had gotten to work on the Falcon. However, when Leia had tried to help, he'd insisted that she rest instead. "And I'm only about seventeen hours pregnant, at that."  
  
"Seventeen hours? Shouldn't it be more like forty?"  
  
She sat begrudgingly on her bunk, the one with the Luke- and Han-smelling pillow. "It didn't happen right away. Sometimes it can take a while. It happened last night. I must have been ovulating last night."  
  
He sat beside her. "Fine. You're less than a day pregnant. All the more reason for you to take care of yourself. Most miscarriages happen in the first week."  
  
Leia blinked. "How did you know that?"  
  
He smiled. "I'm smart." He kissed her temple quickly as if to end the discussion and rose. Leia's skin tingled at his touch.  
  
"We'll get out of here sooner if you let me help."  
  
Han shook his head and pointed at her lower stomach with the tool he'd been working with. "We're not even to the baby part yet. That kid's still a ball of cells. And you're gonna lay still until we're sure that we're gonna get to the baby part."  
  
Leia sighed and lay back. "I know he's fine, Han."  
  
"Yeah? Well I don't. I'll be outside if you need anything."  
  
He started to walk away, but Leia called him back. "Han."  
  
He turned.  
  
"Are you really worried about me?"  
  
He shrugged. "Not you. Not yet. But you just wait. When you start seeming more pregnant...but right now, it's mostly just him."  
  
Leia smiled and pulled the blankets over herself. Him. Their son. Han was taking care of their son.  
  
She fell asleep quickly, helped by the fact that she hadn't slept much last night. Besides, she wasn't worried about anything anymore. She was fine, Han was fine...Han was happy. She could tell he was.  
  
And Leia was happy, too. 


	18. Luxury Ultimate and Exclusive

Author's note: Dear AWESOME and FAITHFUL readers,thank you for waiting for the next chapter of this story (it only took me over a year, and it's not even all that great). I promise there will be much, much more to come. I WILL finish this story, even if it kills me (well, maybe not then). I'm also still working on The Shadows Suit Me, so don't give up on that one, either. I love you all.

Here you go:

Chapter the Next

Luke had felt Hanna leave her room with Max yesterday, and now it was morning.

And Hanna was still with him, in another part of the palace.

_You're smarter than this, Hanna, _thought Luke, not at her so she could hear, but to himself. _Damn Solo hormones._

Luke, fully robed today, was not planning on staying much longer. But if Hanna started feeling things for that boy...that emotionally unstable, self-centered pawn...she might be loath to come along. He almost wanted to passive-aggressively dismiss it, with an "if she wants to ruin her life, she can go right ahead" sort of sentiment. But Hanna was his daughter more than not–and she was coming with him.

He felt Leia tug at his mind, and he acknowledged her. She was very happy about something, something....

_What is it?_ he asked.

He was prevented from receiving the answer by the door opening. It was the man he had seen yesterday, this time wearing robes of orange and magenta. Luke rose and regarded him dryly. "Good morning."

The other, perhaps thrown by the fact that Luke had spoken first, hesitated–elegantly, somehow–before replying, "Good morning, General. I apologize for the dely with your breakfast. It will be in shortly."

Luke didn't answer.

Fishing uncomfortably for something else to say, the man said at last, "Mr. Winnik tells me that he sent Tirha to you yesterday. She's one of our best. I trust you enjoyed her?"

Luke, again, did not dignify him with a reply, but raised one eyebrow slightly.

The man whose name Luke did still not know cleared his throat slightly and motioned for Luke to sit. He did, cautiously, on one of the red leather couches before the fireplace, not taking his eyes from the man for an instant, to let him know he was on his guard.

The man sat on another couch, at a ninety-degree angle from Luke's, and said, smiling, "I don't believe I've properly introduced myself. I am Bates Fae. The president of LUX–Luxury Ultimate and Exclusive."

Luke didn't respond again, at first, except to note that it was a very bad acronym for several reasons, and it indicated some rather bad writing. He regarded Fae cooly. "I suspected as much. And I suppose you want me to help you attain more of this 'ultimate and exclusive' luxury with my abilities. Was that it?"

He smiled. "I suppose there's no hiding things from you, General." He laughed a moment, almost as if he expected Luke to join in. Luke himself was getting very tired of being here. "Of course we wouldn't dream of holding you here once you agree to our proposition. You and your student–do I correctly remember that the lady is your niece?–are free to go back to Coruscant and carry on with your lives. I only ask that you are at my disposal when necessary and I promise, General, that that will be very seldom and that we will make it very worth your while. Now," he stood and went to the fireplace, leaned on the mantle, "Of course there are some technicalities-I would call them 'legalities' but I won't, for obvious reasons–to go over, some paperwork to sign. But we can take care of that later, after we've all had our breakfast. If you have any demands, any conditions at that time, I'm sure we can work something ou–"

He was cut off by Luke rising and standing dangerously close to him, staring him down with a threat in his eye. "I have demands, Fae. I want you to let my niece and me go. Now."

Fae swallowed, paling. "General, I assure you, that your release will be unconditional once–"

"Once I meet _your_ conditions. I'm warning you, Fae. I know you're aware of my reputation, otherwise you wouldn't have brought me here. But I'll have you know that I don't need my lightsaber to take you and whatever guards you have out there down. If I were you, I'd let me go. Peacefully, and now."

Though Fae looked terrified, he did not falter. "I believe you, Sir. I promise, we can work something out."

Luke stepped away, feeling he'd made his point, but he wasn't about to start a fight before he had a plan. "I want to see Hanna," he declared, sitting back on the couch. "Then we'll talk."

Fae regained his composure. "I...I'm sure I can arrange that, but she's in Mr. Winnik's custody. If it wasn't for he, we would have only brought you. He's taken a shining to the girl, I'm afraid." He straitened his cape and gave Luke a slight nod. He didn't return it.

Luke was again left alone.

That afternoon, Luke sat on his bed, deep in a trance, mentally exploring the computer and mechanics that controlled the impossible door. It opened, startling him out of his trance.

It was Tirha. Luke's throat tightened to see her. "Hi," he said carefully.

She smiled cautiously. Today she was slightly more, well, clothed, in lose burgundy silk pants and a cropped matching top that tied behind the neck. Her head was unadorned, her feet once again bare. Luke thought she looked beautiful, actually beautiful, not just enticing as she had yesterday. She carried the tray again, but set it down as soon as the door was shut behind her. She ran to Luke and sat casually beside him on the bed, her manor and aura almost giddy with excitement. "I did it," she informed at a whisper. "I did what you asked. I was so surprised with myself–because I never have this much courage. I got the floor plans." She scurried back to the tray and pulled a few thin printouts out from under the jars and bottles. She scurried back and jumped onto the bed, smiled at Luke proudly as she gave them to him.

He smiled into her eyes gratefully, surprised also. "Thank you." He paused, looked them over. "Tirha, I promise you, once I get out of here, I'm going to come back and buy your freedom."

She smiled, and Luke could feel that she did not believe him. "I mean it," he insisted.

She shook her head. "I know you do, but even if you did come back, they wouldn't let me go. They always say I'm 'one of their best.'"

He flushed slightly. "I believe it. But I'll do it. I mean it." He smiled sheepishly. "But every guest who takes a liking to you probably promises that too, right?"

She shook her head, her eyes sincere. "No. You're the first."

They smiled at one another. Luke licked his lips, wanting badly to kiss her, to feel her touch. He'd thought about her since they'd parted–every moment that he wasn't preoccupied with his situation, he marveled over her strength of spirit, wondered how she had become the way she was, thought, though he almost did not want to admit, about her perfect, pink body. Luke leaned in to kiss her. She returned it passionately, practiced.

After a short moment, though, he drew away. "No. Not like this." He rose, forcing his hormones away, willing himself to think with his head instead of his....

"Not like what?" asked Tirha, clearly disappointed.

"If we...make love...I want it to be just that. Making love. Not...fucking," he said the word hesitantly, never having said it before, "Not you serving me. Not me taking advantage of your services, not me thanking you for what you did for me. I want...."

She rose, smiling. "I know what you want. I know you like me. I like you, too. I want it, too."

Luke swallowed hard. She kissed him. He kissed her back, not hesitating this time.


	19. Something Strange

Author's note:

Welcome back to Not Ready...the story forever in the making. Another chapter will be along today or tomorrow. Thank you for your patience. Rock on.

Leia's anxiety grew with each passing day. It was not for Luke and Hanna's safety that she feared, because she could sense their apparent happiness. It was the happiness that unnerved her. Never in a million years would she wish to feel pain and stress and anguish emanating from her brother and daughter, but the lack of it at this time was unsettling. They had been violently captured, taken to a far way, desolate–albeit beautiful–planet, where they had awoken in small amounts of anxiousness...which dissipated in a few days. Now Luke would not return her summons. She felt him as clearly as ever, but he brushed her off when she tried to communicate with him with a fairly inconsiderate and un-Luke, _I'm fine, okay?_ It always sounded obstinate. Hanna wasn't much better. Leia had never been able to send thoughts to Hanna as well as she could to Luke, but when she reached a tendril of motherly concern towards her, Hanna brushed it off as a child would who'd rather not be babied.

Leia, sitting at the holo-chess table aboard the _Falcon_, yawned as she pushed her lunch around on her plate with a fork. _Hurray_, she thought sardonically, _my first symptom._ Just under four weeks pregnant, counting from her period as a medd would and not from the night she conceived, put her at about the right time to start feeling tired constantly. It wasn't full force yet–and wouldn't be for a couple of weeks. But the fact that she already knew she was pregnant made her more attuned to the changes in her body, more watchful of them. She smiled slightly, thinking of her bitter rejoicing a moment ago. Maybe she should, in fact, be happy about the signs coming on–it meant everything was going well.

Han came up the _Falcon_'s ramp, wiping his work-dirtied hands on a rag. He gave her a small smile. She returned it. They were both concerned over how long the repairs were taking, and the tension aboard the ship ran high. "Any word from Luke?" he asked, and Leia could see the worry in his eyes.

She shook her head. "No. He keeps blocking me out. It's almost like he's ashamed of something–like there's something I shouldn't know."

He shifted uncomfortably. "Like what?"

She wished she knew. "He's never done this before, Han. He's always there, in part of my mind. And I'm in his. And now...."

"What about when he wants some privacy?"

She shook her head again. "We can maintain privacy without pushing the other away completely. I don't have to feel everything that's going on inside him to feel us as part of each other. It's like...like everything about him has suddenly become a secret. And he and I just don't do that to each other."

He shook his head. "Well...not much we can do, I guess. I'll bet it's just a misunderstanding, anyway. You can ask Luke about it when you see him."

She nodded, not terribly comforted, but thankful to Han for trying.

He passed her on the way to the galley to get his own lunch, but paused to watch her play with her food for a moment. "You gonna eat that eventually?"

She looked up at him, startled. She hadn't realized what she'd been doing. "Oh...yes." She took a bite, hoping it would make him stop bothering her.

No such luck. He crouched down on the floor beside her, looking intently into her eyes. "You okay?"

She nodded. "I'm just worried about Hanna and Luke." She sighed, stretching. "And tired."

"You got enough sleep last night." He rose, as if to make for the galley again.

"I know. That's just the thing. In your first trimester you can get all the sleep you need and you'll still want more." Leia watched sidelong as the look of understanding come into his eyes. She smiled slightly to herself.

"Oh. Right–that." Han shifted again, then returned her smile. "So, uh...." he continued to talk as he entered the galley, "I guess that means he's doing okay?"

He. The baby. "He's fine, Han," Leia called.

"Are you?"

Leia shook her head. Every time he was reminded of her condition he asked her at least three times if she was all right. "Yes, for the last time. I'll tell you if I'm not."

"I'm just making sure," he called defensively. "You don't have to get all huffy."

Leia sighed in exasperation. Even when he was being sweet he was impossible. "I'm not being huffy. You're being ridiculously over-protective."

He reentered the room, sitting opposite Leia with a plate of food. "I think I have a pretty good reason."

She didn't answer, didn't look up at him.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"That thing where you just ignore me. I'm just trying to...to be a good father, okay?" He said the last bit hesitantly, his voice almost trembling uncharacteristically. Leia looked up.

Oh.

That's what this was about.

She didn't answer again because she could find no words. She looked into his tired hazel eyes and found pain and longing, longing for her and the child she carried. He reached for her hand.

She drew it away, looking down.

"Never mind," he murmured after a moment. "It's not important right now anyway."

"Let me help you with the repairs," Leia pleaded, desperate for a change in topic, something to keep her busy, and a quicker rescue of her family. "I feel fine, Han."

"Yeah...." he drummed his fingers on the table, as he sometimes did when stressed. "I guess so. At this point we just need to get going...."

She nodded in agreement. "Something strange is going on. I only wish I knew what it was...."


	20. Changing Directions

Author's note: Sorry for the slight freakiness of this chapter. I promise everything will resolve itself, and that at the end of the story there will be cake (if you're good). And all of you can come to my wedding.

Chapter 20

Max hated being interrupted, no matter what he was doing. Of course, being interrupted when Hanna was just starting to relax and let him hold her, kiss her...that was the worst.

One of the slaves entered without knocking. Max rose from the bed in Hanna's room in a fury, Hanna standing a moment later. "Is it tolerated," growled Max, yelling, to the poor boy at the door, "That a slave enter a master's quarters unbidden?!"

The boy, dark eyed and tiny, shrank back. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Winnick. I thought Lady Organa was alone."

Hanna put a hand on Max's shoulder, soothing him with a squeeze. "Calm down. It's not his fault–he's just a kid."

Max sobered. He was so interchangeably gentile and aggressive, sometimes understanding and other times quick to temper. It was the same when he was with Hanna. He wanted her in all ways that one person could want another–sexually, emotionally, possessively. Occasionally he found himself thinking of her as his own–as his slaves were his own, as his ship was his own, as the clothes he wore were his own. He wanted her to be so. He wanted her to kneel at his feet and do his every command. He wanted her in bed every night, grabbing him and tangling with him in fits of unfeeling passion.

But sometimes, and more and more often, he didn't feel that way. Sometimes, he wondered if he loved her–really loved her, not just wanted her or needed her. Sometimes, when she looked intently at him with her big blue eyes, he wanted to kneel at _her_ feet and promise her everything...but what could he give her besides the things that LUX could? No. At times like that, he didn't need LUX, and he wanted something separate that he could give to her, a promise that he could make to her, but he knew that the only thing he could give her, that wasn't a possession, was he himself. For most lovers that would be enough, but he knew what he was. He was no Sith–Luke had been right about that–but he was somehow less. At least a Sith had some dignity, some resolve, perhaps. He had nothing. He had a quick, extremely polar temper, and an empty spot inside his soul. It could be filled, he supposed, by light or by dark. But he lacked the integrity for either, and he'd tried both. The light blinded him, and the dark frightened him. All he had...was nothing. And thus, he was not enough to promise to Hanna. And she would be a fool to accept any offer of love he gave her, for numerous reasons.

The most important reason was that he couldn't keep his promises, even if he meant them with all of his heart. The light tugged one way, the dark another. When he found himself changing directions, all bets were off. Anything he had said or done in his previous mood could no longer be trusted. He loved Hanna one moment, hated and wanted her the next.

That was why he took his opportunities to kiss her and hold her and talk to her whenever he could, now. Because he knew she would not stay. Hanna might act as if she was enjoying herself for a time, but he knew her heart. She wanted to go home.

"What is it?" he asked the child slave much more patiently, soothed by Hanna's touch.

"General Skywalker insists on seeing Lady Organa. Immediately."

"I assume that this was approved by Mr. Fae?"

The boy nodded, trembling. "It was he who ordered it, at the general's request."

Hanna had already stepped forward, and Max heard her mutter, "Finally," under her breath. She didn't give him a look back or so much as a good-bye as she followed the slave out the door.

That was the other thing about Hanna. He didn't know how she felt. She'd kiss him one moment and ignore him the next.

Max sat back on Hanna's bed, frustrated in every way.

It had been almost three weeks, Luke guessed, since he'd seen Hanna. She'd been off gallivanting with Max while he'd been a prisoner. He shook his head, opening a bottle of champagne. That was about to change. He'd meet Fae's demands and get her away from that unstable and frightening boy, and take Tirha, and get out of here. He saw now–the was no other way out, and after all, there was no real harm in helping these people, was there? They only killed if they had to–mostly only stole, from those would could afford it. No harm in that.

Hanna entered the room unescorted. Her blue eyes sparkled with innocent confusion, and a little annoyance. "You know," she spat as she entered, regarding the sitting Luke, sounding like both of her parents at once, "I wasn't allowed to see you, but you could have summoned me at any time. Why'd you wait until now?"

Luke let her irritation slide off of him. He took a small sip of the champagne and rose. "I've been busy," he said, as if it was somehow a justified excuse.

"Doing what? Drinking champagne and screwing that Twi'lek?"

Luke looked into her eyes, his own shining dangerously. "Doesn't sound too far off from what you've been doing. You know, you're just like your father–"

She marched up to him, infuriated at the insult to her blood, though not knowing why. It was then that she noticed that they were not alone.

She'd met Mr. Fae a few times since they'd arrived, and every time she was disturbed by his color choices in clothing. This time it was chartreuse and black. He stood by the mantle, a small stack of printouts in one hand. "Good evening, Miss Organa. Please, sit down."

_Luke? What's going on?_ Hanna sent.

_You'll see._

She sat carefully on the leather sofa beside her uncle, her blood running cold. Something wasn't right. _Mom,_ she sent, needing a reply this time. Mom'd been bugging her all day with Force pets and inquiries to her well-being, and Hanna had only brushed her away. Now, she needed her to hear. Something was wrong with Luke–he didn't act like this. He was never cooly calculating with her, nor snide and defensive. The Luke she knew was always warm and sweet, though he could be stern. He loved her. This Luke...what had happened? _Please, Mom. I need you and Han...._

Luke must have heard her call, because he looked over. "No need to call for help, Hanna. It's all under control, now." He rose again, champagne flute in hand, to stand beside Fae. "I'm sure that once you give it some thought, you'll see it my way. You see, Hanna, this is only_ business_. We're not hurting anyone." His bright smile caught her off guard. He usually only smiled like that when he felt completely at ease, when he was in a happy situation around family members. As Han had told her, on their way from Tatooine to Coruscant, there were two Lukes, the Jedi Luke and the farmboy Luke. The Jedi Luke was who he thought he had to be for the outside world. He was also the one that dealt with difficult situations and adversaries. Farmboy Luke, on the other hand, was what Hanna thought of as the real Luke, the sweet, caring, happy-go-lucky kid that her uncle turned into whenever he was comfortable enough. Usually only the farmboy smiled like that. To see that smile on his face as he said such unfeeling words made Hanna shudder.

"Luke, if you do this, you'll become like Max–all confused and empty...."

"Oh–but I thought you _liked_ Max, Hanna," he jeered. He dropped the topic rather quickly. "I'm afraid Hanna will need some time to get used to the idea," Luke said apologetically, turning to Fae. "Perhaps we could postpone this until tomorrow?"

He nodded politely. "Of course. Good night, then, General. Lady." With a quick bow to each of them, Fae left the room, taking the papers with him.

Hanna watched him leave, still reeling from what was happening. Not Luke...never Luke. Luke always did what was right. Hanna knew that she could always look to him for guidance, confident that she could follow his example and never do anything harm, so much as to trample a blade of grass. He was so careful to take care of others that he usually forgot to take care of himself...and now....

"Luke...you don't mean it, do you?"

He sighed, sitting beside her. His cold demeanor melted, but his oddness, and strange politeness did not. The feeling that this was not her uncle did not leave Hanna. "I know this probably comes as a shock to you. I have been fairly puritan in my ways in the past, indeed of your whole life. But it doesn't have to stay that way, Hanna. I've enjoyed myself here. If I agree to their demands, they'll let us go as well as provide us with whatever we desire. I'll be able to take the Twi'lek with me...."

"To free her, you mean?" she asked, hoping the answer was a quite obvious yes.

The farmboy smile appeared again, as well as the laugh that sometimes went with it. "You're so naïve," he said, as if endeared. "Come on, Hanna. Isn't this what you want, to be with Max?"

She shook her head. "No. I want to go home."

She rose to leave.

"I know," Luke called after her. "And we will."

_Mom...._


End file.
